


Like a Boomerang

by baeconandeggs, CookieCuddler



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Chanbaek are basically huge tsunderes, Comedy, Enemies to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Romance, Swearing, Tons of insults (but they're jokes)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-18 08:07:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14848949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baeconandeggs/pseuds/baeconandeggs, https://archiveofourown.org/users/CookieCuddler/pseuds/CookieCuddler
Summary: It's not surprising that Chanyeol and Baekhyun hate each other, given their past, but a dreadful group assignment, no-good group members, and an overzealous friend teaches them that there is more than what meets the eye.





	Like a Boomerang

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt #:** (BAE109)  
>  **Disclaimer: baeconandeggs/the mods is/are not the author/s of this story. Authors will be credited and tagged after reveals.** The celebrities' names/images are merely borrowed and do not represent who the celebrities are in real life. No offense is intended towards them, their families or friends. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this fictional work. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> **Author's Note:** Hey, so this is perhaps the longest fic I've ever written (sad right?) but I'm also proud of this ~~monstrosity~~ beast. I want to thank the mods who were understanding of my situation (school and my laptop not breaking once, but twice). You guys are great and I did not deserve your kindness. However, for whoever prompted this, I hope this is what you had in mind. I will admit, I got kinda _sidetracked_ towards the end but I think it's still somewhat enjoyable (lol watch it not be and I have to eat my words). I'm also sorry if I didn't weave the prompt into the plot enough (don't worry it's there but it's like 35% of the story because I had to run off and overcomplicate things). I hope you enjoy! ^^

It’s awkward, to say the least. Chanyeol eyes his ice coffee that sweats against the wooden table. Meeting at the university’s library on a Friday afternoon wasn’t his idea. Preferably, he’d like it if everyone else just fucked off and he did the project himself, but this was the only time he and his group were able to agree to meet. That and he needs to get at least a C in this class to graduate and getting at least C meant being a team player. 

Maybe he should drop-out. 

“They’re pretty late, huh?” Chanyeol’s voice is foreign in his ears. Idiotically sweet and unnecessarily optimistic. He knew how to fake like people. He fake likes a majority of the people he comes into contact with in his classes, but this was too much. “I mean, we showed up so maybe we should get started on the project. They might be stuck in traffic.” His teeth hurt at the lie. He knew what type of people Sehun and Jongin were. They’re probably at their apartment pregaming. Now Kyungsoo, that’s surprising. 

Baekhyun is silent and continues to stare at his lap. He reaches for his strawberry milkshake without a care and steals a sip as if Chanyeol never said anything. Chanyeol eyes Baekhyun and watches as he places the milkshake back on the table without sparing him so much of a glance. 

What an absolute dick. 

From what Chanyeol could grasp in the reflection of Baekhyun’s wide framed glasses, he’s scrolling through Instagram, periodically switching to his messaging app. From his timid tsk, no one is answering his messages. 

Chanyeol takes a sip of ice coffee at the silence. Group projects suck and can be unnecessarily awkward, but to put into one with a previous hook-up is bad. One that ended on horrid terms is worse. It was embarrassing enough on syllabus day. They shared matching horrified looks when their eyes met. Baekhyun’s previous smile melted into one of indifference and he sat as far away from him as possible. He felt pretty awkward then—knowing he was the reason for Baekhyun’s exaggerated response, but this takes the cake. How does one act in front of an “ex?” He sucked Baekhyun’s dick what can he do now? What can he say to him now? This tart waffle saw him _naked_. Made him cum. Baekhyun could destroy him. 

Chanyeol is pulled from his thoughts at Baekhyun’s sigh. And it wasn’t an ‘I’m tired’ or ‘I’m mildly annoyed’ sigh but an ‘I want to fucking dissolve into the earth and cease to exist’ sigh. He could practically feel Baekhyun roll his eyes. When Baekhyun stood without a word, his chair screeching against the wood floors, Chanyeol stood too. 

“Wait.” Chanyeol put a hand out as if that would be enough to stop the smaller man. 

Surprisingly, it was. 

Baekhyun turns to Chanyeol with a blank expression on his face. If it wasn’t for his scowl and shitty personality, his black fringe that rested atop his glasses and his oversized patterned sweater, which made him look smaller than he was, he’d be sort of cute. 

“We’re supposed to talk about our project…you know, for our capstone?” 

Baekhyun nods, lips pursed, “I’m aware of that, yeah.” 

“But, you’re leaving when the other members haven’t arrived yet.” Chanyeol swallows his backhanded _If they arrive_ comment to keep the conversation positive. This is perhaps the most he and Baekhyun have said to each other in a while, the runner-up the day Baekhyun told him to go fuck himself. And that he did. 

“I know.” 

Chanyeol is silent. They continue their minor standoff, Chanyeol staring at Baekhyun in misplaced disbelief and Baekhyun just not giving a fuck. 

“I have other things I could be doing and it’s obvious no one is going to show up…” Baekhyun trails off. He slides his arms into the sleeves of his coat and picks up his milkshake, knapsack already on his back. 

“Yeah, but…” Chanyeol stares at his fingers as his cheeks warm in humiliation at the idea of asking Baekhyun to stay with him. Like Baekhyun, there are _several_ other things he would rather be doing, but this looming project is stressing him out. He already wasted an outfit to meet up with him and the other group members today. He wore jeans and matched his crème sweater with his shoes—matched! “It’s pretty obvious you don’t like me, and I don’t like you. And you can probably agree the sooner we finish this project the faster we can be on our way…” Chanyeol voice weakens as he looks up to be met with an empty table and an emptier chair. 

Baekhyun left.  
  


###

“It was pretty bad.” Chanyeol grips his cup of noodles as he tangles the thread like pasta around a pair of chopsticks. Through the large window of the convenience store situated in front of the table, he watches as groups of people with tight smiles on their faces visit nearby restaurants and bars. He met Baekhyun at a bar on a night a lot like this one.

He leans in for a bite of his despair meal when the music in the convenience store changes. The soft jazz turns into a 90s love ballad, the female singers’ voices are lax and smooth. 

“You did fuck him and leave him,” Kris comments nonchalantly next to Chanyeol, ruining the atmosphere. He takes another bite of his candy bar and scrolls through his phone with a free hand. Chanyeol glares at Kris from the corner of his eye. “I mean, yeah—I guess I did.” He had to be with him to leave him though. 

“You did, Chanyeol.” Kris turns to face Chanyeol, a piece of melted chocolate staining the corner of his mouth, “You called me out of the blue, crying, about how Baekhyun hurt your feelings and—” 

Chanyeol sits straighter in his chair, “I remember Kris, you don’t have to—” 

“—you said you were okay after your last hookup. Then you said you woke up to use the bathroom then—” 

“Kris, a customer!” Chanyeol points to the door, leaning forward in his seat. 

On autopilot, Kris stands and smooths his red apron with stained fingers. There’s a jitteriness to his movements. He might be almost two meters tall but he’s an awkward llama, or at least, that’s how Chanyeol would describe him in five words or less. 

Kris strolls to the door on the opposite side then down each row. Chanyeol hides his grin behind a closed fist. Tricking Kris gave him a rare satisfaction; he felt powerful. He almost lost it when he thought he heard Kris mumble under his breath, _Where the fuck are you?_

Kris returns to the table with a blank expression on his face. He sits in his chair quietly and picks up his phone. 

“Did you find them?” Chanyeol rests his head on his palm, his cup of noodles forgotten and resting off to the side. 

“Who?” Kris doesn’t dare look up, his ears red. 

“The customer? They might need some help.” Chanyeol drawls. 

At some point during this game, he should feel bad—and a part of him did. But Kris loved to tease him for his “odd” hobbies so this made them even. 

“You know, you could hang out with your other friends on a Friday night?” Kris faces Chanyeol, tone dangerous. “Oh wait, you don’t have any.” 

“You shouldn’t insult yourself like that Kris.” Chanyeol follows Kris’ example and starts fucking around on his phone. “Besides, all of my other friends are partying or out of town.” 

“Go out with them and let me work.” Of course, by work, Kris meant stand behind the cash register and eat chocolate while he plays Candy Crush. 

“I don’t know, I’m not really interested in the partying right now.” Chanyeol tried going to bars a few months ago but something no longer clicked. The alcohol that used to make his belly warm and his mind buzz with nulled senses only gave him heartburn. The music is just too loud and piss-drunk partygoers who whispered sweet promises into his ears lost his charm. The ego boost just wasn’t enough for him anymore. 

“When did your interest stop?” 

Chanyeol gives Kris a strange look. “Uh, I think last semester?” 

“Around the time you met Baekhyun?” 

“We just fooled around, stop—” 

“You’re the one who brought him up.” Kris stretches his arms above his head and stares at the register in loathing. Both he and Chanyeol knew he needed to get back to his station, the one he’s supposed to be at for his entire shift unless there’s an emergency—which isn’t this. 

“Because he’s a dick and just ditched me during out group project meeting. He left while I was still talking!” 

Kris sighs, “It’s kind of what you deserve.” 

Chanyeol knew his decision to leave Baekhyun that night was selfish and foolish. And Kris was right that the bad blood they have between them is really his fault, but they have a project they need to do. Baekhyun could be as salty as he wanted, he could eat, breath, and live salt for all Chanyeol could care, but he could have at least tried. If he was so quick to bail, then he shouldn’t have shown up. It would have hurt less. 

“Well, I tried clearing it up and he didn’t have it so…” Chanyeol taps his fingers against the table. His eyes loom over a couple walking hand and hand, their breaths intermingling as they talked about something excitedly. He tears his gaze away and back to Kris who is opening yet another candy bar. 

Chanyeol points at the candy bar, “You know eating those excessively can be bad for you.” 

“And running away from your feelings is also bad for you but will you stop?” Kris retorts, breaking a square piece of the candy bar and eating it. “Also, my dad said I can have whatever I want for free, within reason, and they help with stress.” 

Chanyeol remains silent at that. He checks the window again and the couple is gone, thankfully. The pain in his hurt doesn’t subside although. 

“…Maybe we should get drunk.” Kris stares forward, eyes glazed in deep thought. He rests his head on his palm while the other rests on the table, his partly eaten candy bar in his grasp. “It could help you emote more.” 

“What a random thought but no. I have somewhere to be tomorrow.” 

“On a Saturday? What a cool kid.” 

Chanyeol swallows the smile that appears on his face at the clear irony of the statement. 

“Yeah, and I have another group project meeting. Kyungsoo texted the group chat earlier today and said he’ll be free tomorrow and the others just agreed.” 

“…So, are you excited to see Baekhyun again? You dressed up for this chance meeting and everything. It’s kind of weird to see you outside of your jogger pants and oversized hoodies.” 

Chanyeol bites his tongue at Kris’ statement. For numerous reasons really. One, he’s not that concerned about Baekhyun or what he thinks of him. He’s probably going to hate him until the day he dies, and the feeling is mutual. Two, the group project wasn’t a chance meeting but one from hell. God is punishing him for not helping that old lady with his groceries a few weeks back. He hopes the Chanyeol in the good universe is having a great time with his group members who are not complete fuck ups sans Kyungsoo. Three, he wears sweatpants and t-shirts sometimes. He has style, one that is clearly underappreciated. 

“Are you obsessed with Baekhyun or something? He’s not that great of a guy and I want to change the subject,” Chanyeol snides. 

“You’re the one who brought him up.” Kris glances at Chanyeol from the corner of his eye, “You know, while you guys were hooking up or whatever, you guys were kind of cute.” 

Chanyeol has never felt this sick before in his life. Bile rose from his stomach and burned his throat and the back of his mouth. He wants to laugh at the absurdity of it all and cry at the idea of him and Baekhyun being like that. He chokes on his salvia instead, launching himself into a coughing fit. He grabs his cup of noodles and sips the now cold broth. 

“When did you ever see us out? All you do is work here and rot in your bed.” Chanyeol wheezes, a hand on his chest. 

“Here, one night actually. I guess you guys were drunk and you somehow stumbled in here.” 

Chanyeol’s eyes dart back and forth at the dump of information. Him and Baekhyun drunk? Very likely. Him and Baekhyun drunk in public? A given. Now, him and Baekhyun drunk and being relationship goals? An impossibility. 

“It’s actually a funny story.” Kris pushes the sleeves of his white sweatshirt up to his forearms and leans against the table. “It was a normal Friday night and you know how drunk kids come in and hassle me for cigarettes?” 

Chanyeol nods. 

“So, instead of some fuck ups who drunk their weight in cheap beer, you and Baekhyun come stumbling in having the time of your life. He wandered off somewhere in the back but you walked right up to me, a serious look on your face. And you know what you said to me?” 

Chanyeol shrugs his shoulders as a reply. 

_“’I’m trying to get my dick wet tonight, but I need to wrap it up first, you know, store it for later. Do you have any extra strength condoms? It’s a monster.’”_

Kris suppresses a laugh and Chanyeol watches him with a disgusted look on his face. He wasn’t much of a drinker and it should stay that way. 

“And did you have any?” Chanyeol asks, tone now an octave lower in the fear someone could walk in and hear how much of an embarrassment he is. 

“This is the best part,” Kris starts. “I asked you what size you needed and then you start dying from laughter as if that was the funniest thing in the world. Then Baekhyun comes from the back with pretzels or something, I can’t remember exactly—but as soon as he saw you, he started laughing as hard as you. I’ve never been so confused in my entire life. So, I ask you, again, and again, you two are unable to answer me because you’re nearly pissing yourselves.” 

Kris finishes his story and watches Chanyeol with an expectant look on his face. 

Chanyeol blinks in confusion, “I…I’m having a hard time following how that’s couple goals.” 

“I’ve never seen you have that much fun before in the three years we’ve been friends. There was something in your eyes, I just can’t explain it.” 

“I was drunk, Kris. Most people have that twinkle or whatever when they’re drunk. I’m telling you, what we had was causal. Nothing more.” 

From what Chanyeol could remember, Baekhyun was normal then, or as normal as he could possibly be. And their hook-ups were normal as well. It would be a stretch to call them friends at that time. 

Kris stares at Chanyeol in disbelief. He stands, collecting his garbage and slips his phone back into his pocket. 

“Whatever, I’m going behind the counter. I tried.” 

Chanyeol watches him go wordlessly. He turns back to his cup of noodles that are almost inedible now. 

The music turns into a pop-like, high energy song with too much enthusiasm and sweetness in each line. Chanyeol goes rigid and stares at the speaker in the corner of the store. 

“Ugh, this again?” Kris complains, now behind the counter and grabbing a stool from the far wall. “Why does my dad play the most basic music, especially at this time of day? I doubt any teenage girls are wandering the streets. And if they are, I don’t want them pestering me.” 

Chanyeol swallows thickly. He knew this song like he knew the back of his hand. He could probably name each member of the idol group by their voices alone. 

“Don’t be such an old man, Kris.” Chanyeol jokes. 

“We can’t all be like you, Chanyeol. I wish I could be a teenage girl going through puberty and crying over a boyfriend I don’t have.” 

“But you do? Don’t you remember that small guy named—” Chanyeol fires back. 

“—I think it’s time for you to leave.” Kris snaps. 

Chanyeol rolls his eyes at how dramatic Kris was being. He stands and collects his trash.  
  


###

Chanyeol’s eyes sting with fatigue. He locks his apartment door as his hands shiver from the cold, his breath fanning out in front of him from the winter air. The sun isn’t up yet and he’s confident there’s a line at the store. He sticks his hands into his pockets and hides his mouth, that is concealed behind a face mask, with the lip of his coat. Then, he adjusts his sunglasses—yes in the dark, and starts his lonely trek to the bus station.

He had an errand of the uttermost importance. The Kpop group, VBM 3rd album came out today and he had to get it—today. 

Kris was the only one in his circle of friends who knew of his secret. Tons of men liked girl groups but Chanyeol wasn’t that type of men. He liked boy bands. There were some girl groups that held his fancy. They were pretty but that’s how far his adoration went. There was something that drew him to boy bands. Pretty girls dancing in short skirts are great and all but pretty boys dancing in tight jeans were better. 

He remembers the day he told, or rather, Kris found out about his love for boy groups. Chanyeol was cleaning out his apartment and his secret stash—well, box sat in his living room so could vacuum his closet. And, of course, Kris had to visit him on that day, muttering about some teenagers who hassled him for over twenty minutes. At first, Kris laughed it off, even calling him a creep and sad that he jacks off to girl groups meant for 14-year-old girls. He even went as far as teasing him for the name of each CD and mini album they had—but when he saw that a majority of his CDs had young and beautiful boys on the covers, his demeanor changed. 

_“You’re one of those fanboys, huh?”_

Chanyeol knew Kris wasn’t the overly judgmental type, but It would be a lie if he didn’t say Kris’ wording of _one of those_ didn’t keep him up all night. Kris continued to tease him for falling into capitalism’s trap that was wrapped in an overly-romantic and sexualized package and not explaining what he meant by his statement. That’s when his _you need a boyfriend_ quips began as well. But Chanyeol doesn’t need a boyfriend, he doesn’t even want one. He just wants to stan VBM and maybe get his dick sucked every other month in peace.  
  


###

It’s cold as fuck outside. Chanyeol tugs the hem of his beanie over his ears, the wind biting them raw. As expected, he was the only guy in line.

Chanyeol pulls his phone from his sweatpants pocket and its barely six in the morning. The store doesn’t open until ten and the shipment won’t come until at least noon. He swallows his scoff because this could be a worse—a lot worse. If he lived in a bigger city, like he did during his hellish days as a high school student, the line would be at least one-hundred people deep instead of the twenty that stands in front of him. However, in those one-hundred people, there would probably be an abnormally tall girl in line to help him feel a bit better than himself. He loved to boast about his height since he towers over most of his family members and his classmates, but when it came to situations like this—his height was no longer an advantage. He stood out like a surprise erection in a gym locker room. His all-black attire and sunglasses make him feel better since black clothing is the new camouflage, but he couldn’t help but feel awkward. 

“Hot pack?” 

A girl who had to be twenty centimeters shorter than him held a hot pack in gloved hands. Her question was muffled since she had a scarf wrapped tightly around her face. Honestly, it seemed like a great idea and he needs to invest in one the next time he waits in subzero temperatures for an album he could “theoretically” pick up tomorrow, perhaps later in the day. 

It took Chanyeol a few moments for him to realize that she was offering the pack to the person in front of him. Now that they’re turned, he can admire their broad shoulders. When they spoke, uttering a soft thank you, their deep voice caught him by surprise. Women can have deep voices, but he could help the surge of excitement at the possibility of meeting another fanboy. Once that was dedicated enough to preorder an album then stand outside for said album they could just buy digitally. 

The small girl gasps and points a finger at the person in front of him. "Wait, are you _Miro in the Mirror?_ ” 

The person in front of him nods slightly. 

“Oh my god, I follow you on Twitter! I saw your update about standing in line for the album, but I didn’t know you’d be here! You’re my favorite fanboy! Can we take a picture? All my friends follow and love your blog.” She turns to the front of the line briefly and mouths something. 

Chanyeol isn’t sure because it’s cold as fuck and he only slept four hours, but this person must be a big deal. Also, fanboy. 

He almost drops his phone from pulling it out of his pocket with an excitement of a lonely fanboy finally finding another to bond with. He was a big social media junkie and could proudly say he has pretty decent followings on his accounts but on his throwaway account, the one where he could properly indulge in VBM is small. The accounts he followed were the official accounts and the ones the members had. Every once in a while, he would have the urge to connect with the fandom instead of being an awkward bystander, perhaps make some friends who could understand him instead of joke about how sad he was. And, as much as he hated to admit, Kris’ jeers about 14-year girls liking the band was kind of true—at least on the internet. He joined a fan café under a female pseud of Chanhee and just about all the fans he came into contact were, well, 14-year girls who cried over the boyfriends they never had. Idiotically, since then, he just assumed he was the only 22-year-old guy liked them and left it at that. 

Chanyeol types in the fanboy’s handle and his page comes up. For one, the boy had almost 10k followers, talk about power. He had Miro as his icon which wasn’t his bias but was still a solid choice—his number two on his bias list. 

But then he got to the pinned tweet and his blood ran cold. There was a young man with fluffy dark hair, deep brown eyes, and a rectangle smile he only saw twice in his presence. 

_Baekhyun._

He couldn’t believe it—didn’t actually. The Baekhyun look-a-like held a signed album with VBM in the background. The caption read, _So happy to see them again! Lots of love!!!_ If he had to guess, it was probably a fan sign since only one of the members, Miro, was looking at the camera. The other members who happened to be in the shot were looking down with a marker in hand. 

There was no way just no way. For one, how did the Baekhyun imposter get a photo with VBM? The only fan sign he went to, under the guise he was getting a CD signed for his sick sister, that wasn’t allowed. And two, how in the _fuck—_

“Would you like a hot pack—whoa.” 

The small girl pulled Chanyeol from his thoughts. Her eyes are wide, and the bridge of her nose was red. She had to bend almost backwards to see his face. 

“Another fanboy?” 

Chanyeol could hear the smile in her voice. He nods and smiles awkwardly, grateful that he chose to wear a mask today. It’s bad enough he’s twice everyone’s height in line, he didn’t want to seem like some sort of creep on top of that. She places the hot pack in his hand, “Welcome to the VerBerMins fandom, fighting!” She raises a fist in the air for emphasis then moves to the girl behind him who seems to be in awe as well. 

He turns to face the store and he doesn’t miss how a few girls from the front of the line are stealing glances his way. He and the Baekhyun imposter meet eyes, or rather, he caught him staring. The Baekhyun fraud is also wearing all black and a beanie, and like the girl before, has a scarf wrapped around his neck, mouth, and nose. His eyes carry heavy bags and are bloodshot. After the quick eye lock, the look-a-like shies away. 

No way this is the real Baekhyun. The real Baekhyun probably would have recognized him and punched him in the dick. That and he doubts Baekhyun would be interested in this kind of thing. As much as he hated to admit it, Baekhyun isn’t awkward. Baekhyun was extremely popular (not to say he’s not) but he doubts if Baekhyun could hide something this major about himself. He could probably get half the university listening to VBM within the week, why live the double life? 

Why is he living a double life? Because Kris made fun of him? Because his classmates will make fun of him? 

Chanyeol pulls his hand from his coat pocket and taps on the Baekhyun sham’s shoulder. Perhaps this is a chance meeting. The other fanboy isn’t standing with anyone so maybe he’s thirsty for some fandom friends who won’t treat him like this fantastic oddity. 

The Baekhyun-fake turns around and blinks at Chanyeol. He had to give it to the fraud, he looked an awfully a lot like Baekhyun. Even their eye shape is the same. 

Chanyeol pulls his face mask down with a finger. The fraud’s eyes widen—he guesses he’s just that handsome despite it being cold as fuck and being ass in the morning. 

“Hi, I uh,” Chanyeol clears his throat, “um, I’ve actually never met another fanboy in person and I was wondering if we could be friends?” 

The fraud stares at Chanyeol, eyes wide and screaming. His stillness is a bit unnerving. Chanyeol knew he was being kind of forward, and considering the time, maybe this wasn’t the best way to approach. But with 10k followers, his DMs must be insane and _why not_. What’s the worst that can happen? 

The fraud muffles something from behind his scarf. Chanyeol bends down as if that’ll help him hear any better. 

“Sorry? Also, my name is Chanyeol—this isn’t too sudden right?” Chanyeol pulls back and stands at full height, “We don’t have to be friends, but can we talk for a while? I just never met another—” 

The fraud pulls his scarf from his face and Chanyeol knows that nose and those petal shaped lips. 

“Chanyeol?” His voice is gruff, and his mouth hangs open. 

“Baekhyun?” Chanyeol’s hands are limp at his sides. Baekhyun’s eyes dart back and forth then look him up and down. 

Baekhyun nods once and the air stiffens. 

Oh. 

Chanyeol looks around and it seems like no one is aware of their unconventional reunion, he literally saw him yesterday, but they haven’t stood this close to each other in months, not counting the meeting from before. 

“Baekhyun…you’re _Miro in the Mirror?_ ” 

Baekhyun nods. 

“And you like VBM?” 

Baekhyun nods again and he fidgets with the hot pack. 

“I see.” 

“You like them too?” A shiver wracks through Baekhyun’s body and he pulls the scarf around his neck tighter. 

“Yeah.” 

“I see.” 

Words can’t begin to describe the type of meltdown he’s experiencing. Baekhyun! Likes the same boy band as him and is a popular presence in the fandom! He sucked his dick, even ate his ass and didn’t know. They went out, partied, hooked-up then repeated for almost two months and he didn’t know. Baekhyun literally can’t shut the fuck up but he kept this quiet. 

Chanyeol starts, “I’m assuming you don’t want to be friends, right?” 

“I’ll rather die a slow and painful death, Chanyeol.” Despite the lower half of Baekhyun’s face being covered, he could see the scowl on his face. Chanyeol swore he saw hurt in Baekhyun’s eyes but it’s also cold as fuck outside and his eyes are probably tearing from the cold. 

“After you.” 

“Get hit by a train and die.” Baekhyun turned back around as nonchalantly as he could and stuck his hands back into his coat pockets. 

_Well._  
  


###

Chanyeol trudges to the library entrance with half a grande coffee in his hands. He dressed up again, despite being ready to pass out from exhaustion. Skinny black jeans, university hoodie under a large parka, black beanie, and coffee. He’s the epitome of the fantasy university student. He looked good. Felt like utter shit but looked good.

He’s also twenty minutes late to the makeup meeting. 

Initially, he was going to skip. Getting up extremely early and standing behind the devil himself for half the day exerted more than enough energy. He also updated his research (with a reference page) on the google doc, on a Friday night no less, so he deserved a break. But he didn’t want Baekhyun thinking he was intimidated by him and skipped the meeting because fuck that. 

As he made his way to one of the study rooms of their university’s library, he caught Sehun scowling with his arms crossed from the doorway. 

“Oh, Chanyeol’s here. Now we can start.” Kyungsoo stated from the end of the table. He types away on his laptop then moves a textbook and spiral from the seat next to him. 

Chanyeol closes the door with a sounding click and makes his way over to the table. Sehun and Jongin are sitting across from each other, both with their laptops in front of them. He couldn’t see Jongin’s but knowing the man, he’s probably playing flash dress up games, and Sehun is probably online shopping. As he passes Sehun, his suspicions are correct. He sits on Kyungsoo’s left and sitting directly across is Baekhyun. He also went the boyish route with a sweatshirt and a snapback. Kyungsoo is preppily dressed in a collared shirt and a sweater vest, Sehun in a cardigan and Jongin in sweats—a part of his wardrobe he missed. 

“Did you party too hard or something, Chanyeol?” Jongin questions, staring intently at his laptop screen. 

“No, I spent most of the night researching stuff for the competitive analysis for today’s meeting.” Chanyeol unzips and removes his parka, then pulls his laptop from his backpack. He steals a glance to Baekhyun, who also had a coffee, typing away on his phone, his laptop cast off to the side. 

Chanyeol meets Kyungsoo’s eyes and Kyungsoo looks between Baekhyun then him, silently asking _Were you two together?_

Oh. 

“How are you going to bitch us out then show up late to the meeting, Chanyeol. You and Baekhyun both.” Jongin replies. “Besides, it’s like five in the afternoon, you were up that late on a Friday night?” 

“I had an errand to run today,” Chanyeol declares smoothly. It wasn’t a complete lie. Standing in line to get an album then rushing home to listen to said album, passing out on his futon, scrambling to find an outfit and then running to get coffee isn’t necessarily an errand, but it’s also no one’s business. 

“Fuck.” Jongin mouths under his breath. He looks under the table then at Sehun who is unbothered on the opposite side of the table, on Chanyeol’s left. 

“Everyone is here, so let’s start,” Kyungsoo states softly. “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it yesterday, I had an emergency—” 

“It’s okay, Kyungsoo. We understand.” Baekhyun looks up from his phone and gives the smaller man a small smile. 

Chanyeol swallows thickly at the transaction. He takes a sip of his coffee and taps on his laptop to pull up the document. 

“Thank you for understanding, Baekhyun,” Kyungsoo replies. His demeanor takes a serious turn with his next statement. “Before you and Chanyeol showed up, Sehun, Jongin, and I decided to split up the work into two teams.” 

Chanyeol sighs at that. He’s probably stuck with Sehun or Jongin, perhaps both knowing the two can’t stay focused for too long. He used to be like that; young, wild, and 21. But that’s also how he met Baekhyun so maybe it’s a good thing he can’t go out and get shit-faced for the time being. 

Sehun leans back into his chair, arms crossed. “We decided Jongin, Kyungsoo and I will be a team, then you and Chanyeol will be a team.” 

Chanyeol places his coffee on the table as softly as he could muster. He couldn’t have heard him right. Just about everyone knows he and Baekhyun can’t stand each other. 

“Why?” Baekhyun turns to Sehun, an edge riding his voice. 

Chanyeol turns to Sehun too. 

“Because it’s the best team composition. Kyungsoo can keep Jongin in line, with Jongin in line, I’m more likely to stay in line and you two,” Sehun looks the between of them, “are on the same wavelength so why not.” 

_Why not_ Chanyeol chides mentally. 

“Sehun, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Baekhyun says, pointily ignoring Chanyeol from the other side of the table. Kyungsoo and Chanyeol exchange looks again, this time, Kyungsoo’s owlish eyes full of worry and partial regret. 

He hates to agree with Sehun with this decision, but it’s not a bad team composition, well if he and Baekhyun don’t kill each other first. 

Jongin is infatuated with Kyungsoo and will bend over backward for whatever he asks, and without his drinking buddy, Sehun is more likely to participate. While Sehun acting as a buffer between Baekhyun and himself sounds like an utterly fantastic idea, he’ll have the worst time of his life and probably ditch. And, obviously, Kyungsoo can’t act as a buffer because then Jongin and Sehun will just fuck off again. Really, the best team composition is probably Kyungsoo, Jongin, and himself, then Sehun and Baekhyun on— 

“How?” Baekhyun questions incredulously. 

“Well,” Sehun starts, “you both showed up to the meeting yesterday, and late to the meeting today.” His implication hangs in the air. 

“Bullshit. The best team composition would be me and you, then Kyungsoo, Jongin, and ass—I mean, Chanyeol,” Baekhyun gestures in Chanyeol’s general direction. 

Sehun leans back into his seat and crosses his arms, “I don’t want to work with you though.” 

Baekhyun sits up in genuine surprise, his mouth slightly ajar. Now, Chanyeol doesn’t blame Sehun at _all_ but Baekhyun is nice to other people. 

“It’s not about who you want to work with,” Baekhyun states, crossing his arms. To a passerby, it would look like a normal group project meeting with its members having a healthy debate. However, Chanyeol has been on Baekhyun’s wrong side for several months and he can confidently say he’s pissed. His wide totally-not-innocent eyes are lidded and his boyish pout swells with attitude. 

“Baekhyun,” Jongin chimes, “you and Chanyeol did show up late.” He looks up from his laptop, “And I don’t understand why you can’t work with Chanyeol—” 

“I don’t like him,” Baekhyun says. 

“He doesn’t like me,” Chanyeol says. 

Sehun unfolds his arms and gestures at the duo. 

Jongin sits up in his chair and eyes Kyungsoo with his eyebrows knocked together in confusion, “I thought—” 

“Baekhyun, we can work together.” Kyungsoo interrupts. He places his hand on Baekhyun’s shoulder. 

“Kyungsoo!” Jongin whines. 

“I don’t want to work with Chanyeol either,” Sehun comments, turning to his laptop. 

It’s Chanyeol’s turn to sit up in his chair, “Hold on, what did I do?” 

“The same thing Baekhyun did,” Sehun says. 

“Then work by yourself,” Baekhyun chimes back. 

“Then who will Jongin work with?” 

“Chanyeol,” Baekhyun states flatly. 

“Wait, so we’re breaking up into three teams?” Jongin reenters the conversation, as lost as ever. 

“Why are we breaking up into teams?” Chanyeol looks to Jongin then to Sehun who offers no answer, then to Kyungsoo who sighs. 

“We thought it would be more time effective,” Kyungsoo explains. 

“A team between Jongin and Chanyeol would consist of Jongin ditching to party with me, and Chanyeol doing all the work,” Sehun states. 

“Then stop partying,” Baekhyun says. 

Sehun makes a look of disgust. Telling him to stop partying is telling him to lick a bathroom doorknob. “You can’t look over a petty feud.” 

Baekhyun spreads his lips into a thin line and a smile ghosts on Chanyeol’s lips. Actually, he starts smiling like a dumbass because that’s exactly what he’s been saying since they started the project. Yeah, he was shitty to fuck him and leave him as Kris said, but it’s stupid. They weren’t together in the first place. 

With a frown on his face, Baekhyun looks away and leans into his chair. Chanyeol eyes him momentarily before diverting his attention to Kyungsoo. 

“…Are we okay with our current teams?” Kyungsoo’s gaze flickers to Baekhyun and Chanyeol, “Sehun, Jongin and I, and then Baekhyun and Chanyeol?” 

Sehun and Jongin nod. Chanyeol hesitates before nodding his head once and Baekhyun stares at the corner of the room.  
  


###

“It was awful,” Chanyeol complains. He sits at the table in the convenience store, drinking a bottle of yogurt through a straw. His eyes follow the patrons who happen to stroll by, eager to reach their destinations and take advantage of the mild Saturday night.

Kris is at the register behind the counter and flips through a magazine. “That’s the big thing you had to tell me? I thought all your interactions with him were awful.” 

“You know the plans I said I had today?” Chanyeol’s ears redden at the thought of running into Baekhyun of all people while standing in line for a CD. Most would side-eye someone for standing in line in the cold for a CD, let alone a grown man, in the wee hours of the morning. Kris is aware of his hobby, but he’s hasn’t treated him differently, besides a smart remark here and there, which he’s grateful for. He’s a bit ashamed himself but this is what makes him happy and the music isn’t bad. Sometimes a cheesy love song full of broken promises is what he needs to hear. 

“Look, if you’re just going to complain and then deny your feelings for Baekhyun you can go.” Kris finishes the magazine and tosses it on the counter. 

Chanyeol turns to Kris, the straw lodged in-between his lips. 

“What? Don’t get mad at me for stating facts.” 

“I ran into him earlier today, before our group meeting,” Chanyeol bites the plastic of the straw at Kris’ silence. 

“Are you obsessed with him or something?” 

Now Chanyeol is taking offense. If Kris wanted to spout his delusions about him _liking_ Baekhyun, more power to him. Everyone knows the two can’t stand each other. But assuming he’s obsessed with the smaller man is sick. 

“He’s so awful to me, Kris. Like this morning—” 

“I’ve never seen you talk about anyone this much before. For someone you didn’t date, you sure do value his opinion of you.” 

“Because we didn’t date. But Kris, this morning—” 

“You say that, but you two act like scorned lovers more than casual fuck buddies.” Kris stares at Chanyeol dully, “Or rather, fuck buddies without the title.” 

Chanyeol turns back to the window. He’s already sick of Baekhyun’s shit and he didn’t need to deal with Kris’ shit on top of that. He didn’t know how many times he had to tell Kris they didn’t date. Maybe from the outside in Kris’ screwed perspective, it looked like they meant a lot of something to each other, but they didn’t. At least he didn’t. Not initially. Maybe towards the ends of their brief acquaintance, he felt something, a small twinge of a _something_. Whatever that something was didn’t have the time to manifest into an actual something because they were over, without ever beginning. 

Chanyeol chews the plastic straw, “If you’re going to take Baekhyun’s side on this, just say so, but stop saying we had something when we didn’t.” 

“I agree with Baekhyun that you’re a dick,” Kris states, his irritation over the entire situation present in his voice. 

“He told me to get hit by a train and die this morning,” Chanyeol recites flatly. He had to admit, out of all the things Baekhyun has said to him, that hurt the most. He’s pretty sure he told the smaller man his distaste for trains during their drunken escapades. To tell him to die scared is a new low. 

“Ok, so I agree with Baekhyun less, but you’re still a dick.” 

Chanyeol turns to face Kris at that statement. By all means, he knows he’s not perfect but being a dick is where Baekhyun exceled. 

“Explain.” 

“For one, you fucked Baekhyun and left him. Then got offended that he started hating you.” 

“Doesn’t mean he should run around and call me names.” Chanyeol pouts. He knows he’s being childish, but does he care? Not at all. He never called Baekhyun names. If Baekhyun wanted to fuck him and leave him, he could. 

Kris sucks in a breath at that statement. “I agree about that, yeah. The train statement was below the belt, but you also ditched Baekhyun, avoided him, then started fucking around with other people. You’re both terrible.” 

Chanyeol is silent at that. He ran away that night because he was scared. Not of Baekhyun necessarily, but how he made him feel. He’s not saying he likes or ever liked Baekhyun because no but Baekhyun made him feel warm. 

Usually, after a hookup, they rest, maybe chat for a bit, and one of them leaves. And if they’re drunk, sleep over, maybe eat breakfast together, then leave. But this particular time, the sex was different. There was more. Chanyeol wasn’t sure when their sex became more but that night, there was so more to it. Baekhyun’s moans were more satisfying and as they sprinted to the edge, they were so much _more_. After they finished and were side by side, he felt it. 

He was happy. 

And when he woke up a few hours later, needing the bathroom, he felt it again. The room was dark, but after his eyes adjusted, he could see how Baekhyun’s eyelashes kissed his eyelids, how cute his nose was, and how much he liked his pouty lips. There was a need to share this warmth and the best course of action at that time was to kiss him. He wanted to kiss his lips, his cheeks, and perhaps his neck so he could hear him laugh. This thought made Chanyeol feel even warmer and it scared him. This warmth wasn’t him having feelings for the smaller man, but they could grow into that. 

After he finished relieving himself and stared at the mirror, his black hair mussed from the sex, and his lips swollen from the kisses they shared—the memory of Baekhyun’s lips on his body made him feel _warm_ —he ran. He had a moment of doubt while he slipped on his shoes that maybe he shouldn’t run away because they never woke up alone if they spent a night together. Perhaps, this was the wrong decision and he should return to Baekhyun’s side where it was _warm_. But one day, this was going to hurt. If he let this continue, he was going to hurt and that’s not something he wanted. 

Maybe he was running away from his feelings, but he also ran before they grew into something. Baekhyun and himself were nothing and that’s how he wanted it to stay, how it should have stayed. 

“It complicated, Kris.” 

Kris rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “Stay sad. Pretty boys in tight jeans singing about love can’t make you happy.” 

“I’m not sad, Kris.” Chanyeol sucked the last of his yogurt cup before tearing another one from his half-eaten six pack. He stuck the same straw in and continued savoring the sweet treat. 

“Why are you drinking yogurt on a Saturday night, complaining about some guy you never liked and don’t care about?” Kris rests his hand on his palm, his eyes lidded in annoyance. With his free hand, he points to the discarded yogurt cups on the table. 

Chanyeol stares at the cups before continuing, “Because he’s a dick to me.” 

Another silence falls between the two. 

Chanyeol knows he was wrong to leave Baekhyun, and he probably looked like a huge dick avoiding Baekhyun’s texts. Even more of a jackass after flirting with other people. He hasn’t hooked up with anyone else after Baekhyun (and he’s tried) but he didn’t hide his dates that well…But they never had a title. They weren’t promised to each other. It was okay, he was okay, everything should have been okay. 

Chanyeol stares out the large window and the sky is now completely dark. A mist falls on the street, the window fogging in result.  
  


###

Chanyeol has been a wreck since his conversation with Kris a few days ago. He knew he was wrong and when he tried to make it right, Baekhyun didn’t want it so he moved on. The smaller man had every right to hate him—and he knew this, but it bothered him. A lot. He spent plenty of nights in bed trying to rationalize his situation. He felt guilty, as he should, but there was more. There’s always something more when it came to Baekhyun. Prior to the group project, he didn’t think about Baekhyun besides from the normal snide comment here and there or whenever they crossed paths, but now he’s constantly bent out of shape and it always related to Baekhyun.

Maybe he was obsessed. Maybe he’s running away from his feelings but what are his feelings? 

Chanyeol bites the dry skin from his lip as he stares at the google document he shared with his group members. He dressed up again, this time in a plaid shirt, a bomber jacket, and straight jeans. You know, casual wear. He felt overdressed in his university’s library, other students wearing sweats, but wanted to look good for his and Baekhyun’s one-on-one group meeting. 

Did you get my email, I brainstormed some ideas for the pitch?” Baekhyun speaks up from the other side of the table. His nose is also in his laptop. Unlike himself, Baekhyun kept it simple with a hoodie and a pair of jeans. 

“Oh, uh, yeah I did. I liked the second idea a lot.” Chanyeol watches as Baekhyun nods and types on his laptop, the clack of the keys louder than what he remembered. 

“Let’s do that one.” Baekhyun’s phone lights up, a list of Twitter notifications filling the screen. 

There was another thing weighing heavily on Chanyeol’s mind; Baekhyun liking VBM. He spent his Saturday night going through Baekhyun’s fan page that also partly doubled as his personal account. There were only a few selfies, some random tidbits of his real life, and some vague posts. Recent vague posts. Now, Chanyeol knows they could be about anyone and Baekhyun is not afraid to speak his mind but the nature of these posts were odd. In the midst of retweets of previews and shit posts about the new album, there were angry thirst posts. Chanyeol thought the darkness from his comforter and the light from his phone made him read each character incorrectly, but they were there. Baekhyun found someone attractive and wasn’t happy about it at all. There were some replies asking who he was talking about or offering condolences. When he checked the next morning, they were gone. 

“Shouldn’t we ask the Kyungsoo and—” 

Baekhyun scrunches his face in distaste. “Kyungsoo won’t care and we shouldn’t bother with the other two.” 

“Oh. Okay.” Chanyeol mutters to himself. He watches as Baekhyun adds the pitch idea to the main document. “I, uh—did some more research for the consumer analysis.” 

Baekhyun nods, still looking at his laptop screen. 

Maybe today is the day they start on a new footing. Chanyeol won’t go as far to say Kris is right about them meaning more to each other than what they let on, but he was right about them being dicks to each other. 

“Um,” Chanyeol starts, “about Saturday, I’m sorry.” 

“What?” Baekhyun’s eyes snap to meet Chanyeol’s. 

“If I hurt your feelings.” Chanyeol supplies. He leans back in the desk chair and watches Baekhyun for a reaction. 

“How could you hurt my feelings?” Baekhyun breaks their eye contact and picks up his phone. 

“Because I did it before.” Chanyeol sucks his bottom lip into his mouth and tastes his rapid heartbeat. He shouldn’t be nervous, he doesn’t care—he just feels guilty. They weren’t together, but that didn’t eliminate the possibility of Baekhyun having feelings. Baekhyun’s feelings aren’t his problem, technically, but maybe they could still reconcile. 

Baekhyun stills and stares at his phone screen. 

“I’m sorry about that too, you know…” Chanyeol trails off. He shrinks in his seat when Baekhyun doesn’t reply. His cheeks warm in embarrassment. This probably wasn’t the right time to approach _that_ subject but they’re in public and he doubts Baekhyun will curse him out like he did last time—especially in the library. 

At Baekhyun’s silence, Chanyeol continues to ramble, “I just thought, maybe we could be on better terms, at least not be at each other throats.” He cringes when his voice cracks. 

“Why?” Baekhyun says after a while. He looks up from his phone and meets Chanyeol’s eyes. His black fringe sits atop his eyebrows cutely—it made him look cute. Baekhyun is cute. 

“Because we hate each other for the wrong reasons—I mean,” Chanyeol clarifies when Baekhyun’s face morphs into disbelief, “We shouldn’t waste so much energy on something that happened in the past.” 

“You want to be friends.” 

“Y-yeah, I guess you could say that.” Chanyeol swallows thickly when Baekhyun shakes his head. 

“We sucked each other dicks, how do you be friends after that?” There’s a pained expression on Baekhyun’s face and he exhales loudly from his nostrils. 

“We could figure it out—maybe.” 

Baekhyun continues to stare at his laptop screen. He blinks slowly then nibbles on his bottom lip. This wasn’t the best transaction since they aren’t getting closure. Chanyeol has absolutely no intention of confessing that he ruined whatever they had because he got scared. Because not only is that incredibly stupid, he sounds like a bitch and he didn’t need Baekhyun knowing that. 

“I have no intention of ever forgiving you, but for the sake of the project, we can have a truce.” 

Their eyes meet briefly before Baekhyun returns his gaze to his laptop. Chanyeol breathes a sigh of relief. It wasn’t what he had in mind, but it was something. He should consider himself lucky Baekhyun gave him a chance at all. 

“About me getting hit by a train,” Chanyeol starts slowly. 

“I mean it,” Baekhyun replies flatly, “But first, we should get the pitch written down so we have something to bring to the next group meeting.” 

_Well._  
  


###

“Are you ready to order?”

Chanyeol picks up the plastic menu from the table and turns to the waitress, “We’ll—” 

“Two orders of _bulgogi_ please,” Baekhyun recites smoothly while handing his menu to the waitress. After writing the order down, she takes their menus and leaves the table. 

Life has a weird way of going about most things, and this dinner is one of them. They found themselves in a nearby barbeque restaurant on a whim. As they were sharing their very awkward good-byes, Chanyeol stomach had to remind him he hasn’t eaten since earlier that morning. It’s nearly six in the evening. 

Chanyeol crosses his arms and rests his weight on the table, careful of the grill in the middle of the table. He eyes his beer but thinks better of it. In retrospective, he should have went with a soda like Baekhyun did but whenever he and Kris went out, they always got drunk so it was probably a force of habit, and every other businessman is drinking beer and that’s his future. 

“Have you eaten here before?” Baekhyun scans the room before returning his attention to Chanyeol. 

“With Kris a few times.” Chanyeol watches Baekhyun warily. He’s relieved they’re getting along, but it doesn’t seem right. The likelihood of Baekhyun faking everything is high, but what Chanyeol couldn’t wrap his head around was why. He’s almost like a completely different person. The Baekhyun he saw yesterday wouldn’t have offered for them to go out to dinner. 

Baekhyun nods, “I went on a date here once.” 

Chanyeol takes a sip of his beer, “Oh.” 

_Maybe that’s who he was vague posting about,_ Chanyeol inwardly muses. 

The soft jazz music abruptly turns into a peppier, high-energy song. There are some cheers of encouragement from the drunk businessmen, and some sighs of annoyance. The group of men to Chanyeol’s left claps alongside the beat and do cutesy hand signs. A smile blossoms on Baekhyun’s face as the businessmen start singing each line of the song, albeit poorly. 

Baekhyun claps along until one of the men turns to him and slurs, “You’re my hero, super superhero!” 

“Save me and wrap me in your strong arms, baby!” Baekhyun sings back, his smile growing into a grin. 

The businessman leans back in his chair in awe. He turns to his group of friends, “Hey, this guy over here can sing!” 

Chanyeol watches as Baekhyun waves them off and encourages them to return to their previous conversation. 

“I didn’t know you could sing,” Chanyeol says. 

“The song doesn’t take that much talent,” Baekhyun takes a sip of his soda. 

“Yeah…but—” 

“I used to sing for you all the time.” Baekhyun places his soda back on the table. When the waitress makes her rounds back to their table, he mouths for another. 

“When?” From what Chanyeol could remember, if they weren’t fucking, they were fighting. 

Baekhyun rests his head in his palm, “So, how did you get into VBM?” 

“Don’t!” Chanyeol looks around the table then leans forward, “Don’t say their name out loud.” 

“Are you ashamed?” 

Of course he’s ashamed. 

“Why are we talking about this?” 

“I thought we had a truce?” 

Chanyeol leans back into his seat. They declared this truce three hours ago. 

“I thought it was just for the sake of the project…” 

_And we’ll go back to hating each other after._

Baekhyun shrugs his shoulders. 

Chanyeol questions, “Is that why you’re being so decent to me?” 

Baekhyun’s face falls into a demure pout and he breaks their eye contact. He replies softly, “What Sehun said yesterday.” He returns his gaze to Chanyeol, “Maybe he was right.” 

_Maybe he was right._

Sehun _is_ right, no if, ands, or buts about it. Chanyeol wants to jump up from his seat, scream into the heavens, and tell every patron in the restaurant that _he’s_ right and been right the entire goddamn time. 

Instead, he stutters, “Yeah, um—” 

Baekhyun sits up and places his hands in his lap, “I’m sorry, Chanyeol.” 

Chanyeol’s eyes widen. He knew Baekhyun admitting he was wrong would only happen if hell froze over, but apologizing for his behavior too? Did he die? 

Baekhyun continues, “You really…I’m sorry for being so mean to you. I’m still mad as hell, but that doesn’t give me the right—” 

“Do you still agree with me getting hit by the train?” 

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I should vocalize those thoughts.” 

“Oh, well, thank you.” 

“I’m not saying I want to start over and pretend what happened between us didn’t happen because it did,” Baekhyun states matter-a-factly, “but it’s time to move on.” 

“Okay—” 

“And I’m sorry for being such a dick when you gave me that half-assed apology.” 

“Which one?” 

“The one where I told you to go fuck yourself.” 

“Oh.” 

“I still mean it and I would say it again if I had to do it all over again, but I’m acknowledging it wasn’t the best choice.” 

Chanyeol narrows his eyes. It’s better than nothing he supposes. 

“Well, I’m sorry for being so insensitive and leaving you that night, and avoiding you,” When Baekhyun twirls his hand around, silently asking for more, Chanyeol continues, “and being a dick to you too.” 

Baekhyun smiles softly and crosses his arms over his chest. The overhead light made his eyes sparkle and his skin glow. Chanyeol takes another sip of his now flat beer. 

The waitress returns with two plates of raw meat, two bowls of rice, and Baekhyun’s soda. She places the plates next to the grill and the soda on Baekhyun’s side of the table, “I’ll be back with the sides, please enjoy!” 

Baekhyun nods to the waitress as she leaves. He extends his hand over the two plates of meat, “Truce?” 

Chanyeol looks between the meat and Baekhyun’s extended hand. Baekhyun’s slender fingers are gorgeous under the lamp, each appendage sculpted perfectly. The man has nice ass hands and Chanyeol isn’t too sure why he picked this time to notice. He shakes Baekhyun’s hand, “Truce.” 

The waitress returns with a plate of _pajeori, ssamjang,_ and an arrangement of lettuce, peppers, and cucumbers. She places them around the grill, mindful of the plate of meat and their drinks. “Sorry for the wait, we’re really busy today!” She pushes a stray strand of hair into her ponytail then quickly runs the direction of the kitchen. 

Baekhyun places the strips of meat on the grill with a pair of tongs. The sizzle competes with the businessmen’s chatter about which female idol has the best legs. 

“Anyway, how did you get into VBM again?” Baekhyun organizes the meat in flat strips before placing the pair of tongs back on the table. 

“You really won’t let this go,” Chanyeol sighs. 

“I’ve only run into a few fanboys here and there, and most of them were younger than me.” He chuckles, “I was worried I was getting too old—And it’s a good conversation starter.” 

Chanyeol gestures to the group of businessmen next to them, currently waving over a waiter so they can request a song, “They’re probably in their forties and they like idol groups.” 

Baekhyun glances at the men, “This is different. Boys don’t like boy groups.” 

“But we do.” 

“Exactly. That’s why I want to talk about it.” Baekhyun flips the strips of beef, the red now a light brown color. He continues, “You know where I’m coming from, right?” 

They make eye contact and the dark brown of Baekhyun’s eyes plead, almost like he’s desperate. 

“Yeah, but you have all those Twitter followers how can you—” Chanyeol catches himself too late, “No, I mean, uh—” 

“How do you know about that?” The amusement present on Baekhyun faces morphs into dread. 

“About what?” Chanyeol takes another sip of his beer. 

“My Twitter account.” 

“You have a Twitter account?” 

“Chanyeol.” For a moment, Chanyeol can see the old, cold Baekhyun before he masks it with indifference. 

Chanyeol looks down at his hands, “I overheard you and that one fangirl the other day, you know when we ran into each other?” 

“Did you look at it?” 

Chanyeol looks up from his hands to see Baekhyun staring at him with an unidentifiable expression on his face, “Yeah, at first—” 

“Did you tell anyone?” 

“Who would I tell?” 

“That’s not what I asked you.” 

“No, I didn’t—But I don’t know how well you’re keeping this a secret, your pinned tweet is a selfie.” 

“I’m not worried about people knowing I like boy bands, it’s–I don’t want the wrong people seeing it.” 

Chanyeol had the urge to ask who these wrong people were since, it’s on the internet, any one of his followers could tell anyone. 

_Unless he didn’t want the person he was vague tweeting about seeing it._

Chanyeol’s eyes widen in shock. 

_Do I know the person he was talking about?_

“This isn’t how you hold a conversation, Chanyeol.” Baekhyun redirects while he checks the meat, which is now a healthy brown color. 

“Oh-um, I got into them when I was in high school. I sat by these girls who talked about them and would play their music during passing periods. After a while, I sat down and listened to it and I liked it.” 

Baekhyun visible relaxes. He replies with a sigh, “That’s not much of an origin story.” 

“Is yours any better?” Chanyeol nibbles on the ends of his chopsticks as the smell of meat wafts around him. 

Baekhyun watches Chanyeol then flips the strips of meat, “I think it’s done.” 

“I’ll double check,” Chanyeol replies as he reaches for the tongs. 

“But, yeah, my origin story isn’t too exciting either. My older sister really liked idol groups, and one day while her friends were visiting, I overheard some of their songs. I looked them up and found myself admiring them.” 

Chanyeol cuts a strip of meat with a pair of scissors, and, _thankfully,_ it’s done. He nods to Baekhyun who takes a piece with his chopsticks and places it on his plate. He reaches for _pajeori._ “You admire them?” Chanyeol wonders out loud as he picks up one of the bowls of rice. 

Baekhyun nods, “I went to a fan sign with my sister while I was a senior in high school.” He takes a leaf of lettuce, avoiding the pile of cucumber, and fills it with _pajeori_ and meat. “I was a nervous wreck and hid behind my sister, even though I was taller than her. When I met Miro he must have seen the terror on my face so he asked me if this was my first fan sign. I told him it was, and I was scared about what everyone else thought of me since there weren’t a lot of guys there. He told me I shouldn’t let others dictate what I liked and the only duty I had was to myself and that was making myself happy. I’ve been a fan of him since.” 

Chanyeol hesitates before rolling a piece of grilled meat into a leaf of lettuce, “That’s…” 

“Lame,” Baekhyun finishes. He stuffs the lettuce wrapped meat into his mouth. 

“No, not at all,” Chanyeol lowers his chopsticks in awe. 

Baekhyun smiles softly as he grabs another piece of lettuce, “Hurry up or I’m going to eat both plates of meat by myself.” 

Heat rises to Chanyeol’s cheeks and nods, “Oh, yeah, right.”  
  


###

Chanyeol stares at the ceiling of his bedroom, slash living room, slash kitchen. It’s a Thursday night and he has another group meeting tomorrow and he’s stressed, but for different reasons.

Almost a week has passed since his impromptu dinner date with Baekhyun. And yet he can’t stop thinking about it. 

They were okay-er, but he didn’t feel okay. He found himself returning back to the time they were “together” and the night that started it all. 

Maybe being with Baekhyun in that way wouldn’t have been that bad. 

But then again, liking someone is terrifying and being vulnerable is difficult. He was scared and ran off that night because of the type of hold Baekhyun had over him. A simple man already meant that much to him. Would he have all of him in the future? If he was Baekhyun’s then Baekhyun would be his and could he deal with that? Did he want to deal with that? 

Chanyeol looks at his laptop screen when it chimes, notifying him that he got an imessage. He rolls onto his stomach and slides his laptop closer to him. With a few clicks, he opens the message and it’s from Kyungsoo letting everyone know he added some more information to the google document. Sehun replies with B) and Baekhyun with a “Thanks Kyungja!” He types “great” before opening a private chat with Kyungsoo. 

Chanyeol and Baekhyun’s beef isn’t necessarily a secret, you would have to be blind not to see they have bad blood, but only a few people knew why they behaved this way around each other. He told Kyungsoo one day on a whim a couple of months ago. They knew each other from high school and were friends. Since Kyungsoo is a year behind him, they drifted apart after he left for university. They’re still close but not as close as he and Kris are. However, one day while on campus, they ran into each other and Kyungsoo’s simple, “How are you?” turned into him unloading his past relationship with Baekhyun and evident intimacy issues. 

He types: 

Kyungsoo

Can I talk you about something ?  


Chanyeol lays on his side and stares at his bare wall. They were fine while in class, well, with Baekhyun sitting on the other side of the room, but a group meeting will be different. At least the others will be there to help him feel less awkward, but they have another one-on-one meeting this Saturday—how is he going to deal with that? His laptop chimes and he rolls onto his stomach again. Kyungsoo replies; 

Kyungsoo

Can I talk you about something ?  


sure.

You know about me and Baek

yeah.  
I also wanted to talk to you about that.  
I’m sorry about putting you two together  
in a group.  
Sehun wouldn’t work with anyone  
else besides Jongin and those two can’t  
be together.

I understand and it’s okay  
I want to ask you something  
do you think me and Baekhyun  
would be a good match?

Datng?  
*dating?

Yes.  
You know how we fooled around  
for a while and it ended on bad terms

yes.

We went out to dinner the other day

a date?

No we were both hungry  
and it was Baekhyun’s idea

you like him now?

Chanyeol’s fingers still on his keyboard. Did he like Baekhyun? He’ll like to think he doesn’t, but would he be this confused if there wasn’t something there? Dinner with Baekhyun last week wasn’t as horrific as he would have thought. As the night went on, he did enjoy talking to him—but that’s just talking. He just has a friend crush on Baekhyun, yeah, that’s it. Their past doesn’t matter because whatever they were then was over. 

Kyungsoo

  
you like him now?

I don’t know

I thought you guys  
would get together.

what

yeah.

why

?

Chanyeol pushes his laptop away and stares at his ceiling. It was one thing that Kris thought they would be good for each other, but Kyungsoo too? He closes his eyes and puts a hand on his chest. His heart is racing and he’s feeling _warm_ again. 

And it also hurts. 

The idea of going on more dates (that are actual dates) made him feel warmer. 

“I don’t like Baekhyun,” Chanyeol whispers to himself. 

The smaller man is still a dick. Because they shared a pleasant dinner where they enjoyed themselves doesn’t mean he _likes_ him. Yeah, no, he’s just confused. They spent so much time at each other’s throats, he’s mistaking friendliness as interest. The brown undertones of Baekhyun’s hair were more profound because of the lighting of the restaurant. When he cracked a smile half-way through dinner, Chanyeol was in awe because all he has seen are scowls and grimaces. Baekhyun said it himself, he had no desire to ever forgive him. 

Baekhyun doesn’t like him. He’s being nice for the sake of the group and he’s infatuated with another. 

_What if that person is me?_

Chanyeol opens his eyes and crawls to his laptop. Within a few clicks, he’s on YouTube playing his VBM playlist. He pushes it away, the beginning cord to their title song invading the room. It’s a welcomed chime to combat the swirl of silence.  
  


###

Maybe Sehun was right about them being on the same wavelength. Chanyeol decided to return to his usual—but stylish—outfits that consist of a sweatshirt and athletic pants. Jeans are such a bitch to take on and off. Baekhyun wore a similar outfit except he wore a face-mask.

Like the first meeting, Kyungsoo, Jongin, and Sehun are absent. 

Chanyeol checks his phone for a Kyungsoo update. Sehun and Jongin must have found a way to weasel out of Kyungsoo’s grasp. Maybe the best team composition was himself, Baekhyun, and Kyungsoo while Sehun and Jongin fucked off. 

Baekhyun, on the other hand, is pissed. His face mask is pulled down, resting on his chin, and his arms are crossed. His foot taps against the floor, and occasionally, he takes a sip of his fruit smoothie. Why he opted for a cold drink on a chilly spring day, Chanyeol would never know. 

“This is so unlike Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol complains and glances at Baekhyun from across the library table. “I guess Kyungsoo couldn’t control them.” 

Baekhyun nods, his scowl deepening on his face. His eyes are trained on the door of their reserved study space. Chanyeol only rented an hour and they currently wasted twenty minutes. 

“I’m going to call—” Chanyeol clicks on Kyungsoo’s contact. 

“Don’t.” 

Chanyeol pauses before he hit dial. He gives Baekhyun a confused look. “Why?” 

“He’s busy.” 

_Obviously,_ Chanyeol inwardly muses. 

Baekhyun stops tapping his foot and his eyes flicker back and forth. After a moment, he stares at Chanyeol. “I don’t trust you, and I probably shouldn’t tell you anything, but I’m pissed off so whatever.” Chanyeol took mild offense with the trust comment. He may be an asshole who doesn’t make the best decisions, but he could hold water. 

Baekhyun leans forward, his hands flat on the table, “If you tell anyone and I find out not only is our truce over, you’re dead.” He waits for Chanyeol to nod and he continues, “Kyungsoo is most likely with Jongin.” 

“But not Sehun?” 

“This was never about Sehun.” 

Chanyeol sits up in his chair. He pushes his laptop aside and rests his hands on the table. 

Baekhyun’s eyes flicker to the door again, “Kyungsoo was probably with Jongin last time too.” 

“Are you saying he lied?” 

Baekhyun gives Chanyeol an exasperated look. “They’re together.” 

“Yeah. You just said that.” 

“Oh my god, Chanyeol,” Baekhyun mumbles under his breath. He takes another sip of his smoothie. 

“So, where’s Sehun?” 

“He was a cover.” 

“For who?” 

“Are you fucking stupid?” Baekhyun exhales. 

Now, Chanyeol is many things, and stupid is not one of them. He never knew Kyungsoo to lie and he thought they were fairly close. If he’s with Jongin like Baekhyun is implying, he would know. 

“No.” An edge rides Chanyeol’s voice. 

“Are you sure?” Baekhyun crosses his arms. 

“Why are you such a dick?” 

“Why are you such a fucking dumbass?” 

“Asshole.” 

“Gangly piece of awkward shit.” 

Chanyeol gasped at that. One, he had to admit it was pretty creative, and two, he wasn’t shit. 

“Takes one to know one.” 

“That’s the best comeback you got?” 

“I’m a dumbass, remember?” 

Baekhyun points at Chanyeol and nods, “Yeah, you are.” 

After a moment, Chanyeol comprehends Baekhyun’s comment and huffs, “Fuck off.” 

“Said the man who wanted the truce.” 

“You started it, Baekhyun.” 

“You started it when you ditched me that night, Chanyeol.” 

Chanyeol narrows his eyes, “I apologized.” 

“And?” 

Chanyeol stares at Baekhyun for a moment. Baekhyun’s cheeks and ears are red, making him look like a cute puppy and this just pissed Chanyeol off even more. He closes his laptop lid and packs it into his backpack. 

“Oh, now you’re leaving?” 

Chanyeol stands, putting the rest of his things into his backpack, “Are you a dumbass?” 

Baekhyun stands, “You’re just going to leave during our group meeting? What about our project?” 

“You did it first.” Chanyeol grabs his parka from the desk chair after zipping up his backpack. He couldn’t believe this. Really, he shouldn’t have expected much. At his core, Baekhyun is a dick, so he will always be a dick. To think Chanyeol thought, no matter how brief it was, Baekhyun could be a good person is foolish. A pleasant dinner wasn’t enough to prove Baekhyun changed, and Chanyeol is stupid for thinking as such. 

Baekhyun strides to Chanyeol’s side of the table, “You fucked then dumped me without much of a text message first.” 

Chanyeol rolls his eyes as Baekhyun took it there, again. He whines, “I don’t like you anymore.” 

“You liked me before?” 

_Fuck._

Chanyeol moves his mouth to retort because _no_ , he never liked him. How could he like him? He found him cute—sometimes. Kris and Kyungsoo just confused him and made him take pity on Baekhyun. Him liking him anything more than an enemy is delusional. He’s delusional. It was delusional to think they could ever be friends. Baekhyun was right (for once). They sucked each other’s dicks, how does one go back to being friends after that, especially if they were never friends in the first place? 

“N-no.” 

Baekhyun stares at Chanyeol with his arms crossed. He mocks, _“N-no?”_

“Shut up, Baekhyun.” 

“Why should I? So, you can run away like you did all those months ago?” 

Chanyeol winces. “You’re such a fucking—” 

“What? A dick? An asshole?” Baekhyun takes a step closer, their chests nearly touching. 

The room is hot. Maybe it’s the adrenaline from their fight kicking in but Chanyeol’s head is swimming. His armpits feel moist and his socks stick to his feet. Baekhyun’s face is even redder than before, the tips of his ears rivaling a ripe tomato. Even his lips are red. 

“All the above.” 

Baekhyun’s eyes are dark. “Coward.” 

“Limp dick.” 

“Now that’s a fucking lie, and you know it, Chanyeol.” Baekhyun puts a finger in Chanyeol’s face, “You’re a liar now? We’re lying to each other now?” 

Chanyeol puffs out his chest and swats Baekhyun’s hand away, “Why are you getting so defensive?” 

“Because my dick isn’t limp! Don’t lie because you’re out of insults.” 

“So, you’re hard right now?” 

“I was when I had my dick in your ass.” 

“That only happened like twice.” 

“Enough times for you to know it wasn’t limp.” Baekhyun pokes a finger into his chest with each word, digging particularly hard with _limp._

Instead of pushing Baekhyun away, he grabs Baekhyun’s wrist. This only riles Baekhyun up more and he tries to pull his hand away, pushing them closer together in the process. 

The room only got hotter. Baekhyun’s hand is clammy, his sweat acting like a glue. His nails bite into Chanyeol’s wrist while the other pushes against Chanyeol’s shoulder. He tips his head back to meet Chanyeol’s gaze, his fringe falling from his eyes in the process. His eyes are on fire. Chanyeol lifts his hand, the one currently grasping Baekhyun’s, and raises it, pulling their bodies closer. Baekhyun’s eyes widen in shock. Like that night all those months ago, the deep brown of Baekhyun’s eyes makes the warmth in his chest bloom, its petals budding into a feeling Chanyeol didn’t want to explore. 

He doesn’t like him. He never liked him and will never like him. Any possibility of them liking each other in that way, let alone dating, is delusional. 

Chanyeol’s eyes follow Baekhyun’s tongue that licks the swell of his bottom lip, moistening the skin. His lips part and a thrum travels from his toes to his fingertips. Baekhyun is closer than before and he can smell the sugar from his smoothie until their mouths meet in a chaste kiss. The taste of Baekhyun’s lips eases the tension from his shoulders, and the warmth in his chest grows. They part quickly after, Baekhyun pushing Chanyeol away, far enough where he could speak, but close enough they could feel each other’s breath on their faces. His slender hand grabs the cotton material of Chanyeol’s hoodie. Chanyeol opens his eyes, not sure when he closed them. 

“Chanyeol?” Baekhyun mutters softly. His eyes are wide and a heavy blush rests on his cheeks. 

As much as Chanyeol hates to admit it, his mouth tingles. He has the urge to lick and taste the beds of Baekhyun’s lips, swallowing everything he has to offer. It’s been a while, perhaps too long. Warmth surges in his chest, desire now boiling within him. He wants to kiss Baekhyun again and so he does. 

His backpack and parka drop to the floor as he slides his hands to Baekhyun’s waist. The hand on his hoodie tightens, pulling them closer. 

It’s messier than the first. Their lips move with an urgency Chanyeol doesn’t understand. They’re rough in the way their lips slide and push, searching for something deeper. With each touch, Chanyeol is warmer and he can feel his heartbeat in his tongue as it waits behind his teeth. 

When the curve of Baekhyun’s thighs hit the table, Baekhyun gasps. Chanyeol slides his tongue into Baekhyun’s mouth, their tongues caressing each other in this sadistic dance. They hate each other. Baekhyun is an absolute childish dick but it feels right for his tongue to explore his mouth. It feels right when Baekhyun’s arms wrap around his neck. He can tell it feels right to Baekhyun too when he lets him grabs his thighs, lifting him and placing him on the table. When their crotches meet, both hard, it’s amazing and the heat that pools in Chanyeol’s belly is supposed to be there. They’re in public and he couldn’t find it in himself to care. He grunts into the lip-lock when Baekhyun’s thighs hug his hips. 

Chanyeol couldn’t stop and he didn’t know why he’d ever want to. 

Baekhyun inhales sharply when Chanyeol travels down his jaw to his neck, pushing his face mask out of the way. A hand grips the back of Chanyeol’s hair, slender fingers tangling in the dark locks. Soft pants escape Baekhyun’s mouth. The curve of Baekhyun’s neck smells sweet and the salt of his skin is welcomed on Chanyeol’s tongue. Baekhyun wraps his legs tight around Chanyeol’s hips, a whine tearing from his throat at the reminder that they’re hard. He leans his head back, giving Chanyeol more room to touch him—to feed the warmth simmering in their lower bellies. 

“Chanyeol,” Baekhyun moans softly. 

Chanyeol skin is on fire—it’s been so long since he’s touched someone like this, since someone touched him like this. His mind is clouded with thoughts of _Baekhyun, Baekhyun, Baekhyun._

A sharp chime breaks them from their stupors. 

Chanyeol bolts upright from the curve of Baekhyun’s neck where he sucked the sensitive skin pink, and Baekhyun pulls away from Chanyeol as if he burned him. Chanyeol scrambles to grab his phone that’s sitting idly on the table—It’s Kyungsoo and he finally sent his _I can’t make it today, tell Sehun and Jongin I’m sorry!_ message. 

Chanyeol turns towards the smaller man who has a horrified expression on his face. His eyes are hazy, and lips swollen with a bite on the swell. He looks undeniably attractive and Chanyeol wants to sprint to the nearest train track. They breathe heavily, avoiding each other’s gaze. Chanyeol tries looking at his lap but then he saw how obvious his erection is in his sweats and how big of a bulge Baekhyun has in his, he turns to the adjacent wall instead. He steps back, giving Baekhyun the space to climb from the table. 

“Was that, uh, Kyungsoo?” Baekhyun clears his throat as he stands on the carpeted floor. 

“Yeah…” Chanyeol stares at the walls adorned with portraits of famous literary writers. They watched them make out. What if people heard them? Were there cameras in this room, would people see them attack each other like horny teenagers? 

“Um.” 

Chanyeol flickers his gaze to Baekhyun to see him staring at the floor, playing with his fingers. The atmosphere is thick and Chanyeol is still hot. His lips felt warm. The ghosts of Baekhyun’s hands around his neck and scalp are still warm. He misses the squeeze of Baekhyun’s thighs around his hips. 

Baekhyun walks to the other side of the table and packs his things quietly. He leaves without so much of a glance in Chanyeol’s direction. His ears are still bright red. 

Once the door clicks shut, Chanyeol exhales loudly. The room is cold, and he isn’t sure how to deal with it. He picks his parka from the floor and puts it on, but the feeling of emptiness persists.  
  


###

“You what?” Kris whispers harshly. An elderly woman in the medicine aisle a few meters away turns to face them. They’re currently huddled by the cash register.

“Shut the fuck up, Kris. I’m not repeating it,” Chanyeol whispers back. He pulls the bill of his baseball cap down to cover his face. He returned to his all-black outfits. 

“You kissed him in the library!” 

“Yes,” Chanyeol hisses and steals a glance at the elderly woman who’s still staring at them. 

“So, I was right?” 

“I don’t know—shut up!” 

“You like Byun Baekhyun!” 

“No!” 

He’d rather die than like Baekhyun. He hates him, his body is just confused—he hasn’t had sex in a while, that’s why he reacted that way, yeah that’s it. 

“Then why did you kiss him?” 

“You can kiss people you don’t like!” 

There’s a hard pinch to Chanyeol’s side, and when he sees it’s the elderly woman from before, he slides over and looks away. He sticks his hands into his hoodie pocket and gazes out the storefront window. It’s a slow Tuesday afternoon. 

“It comes up to 4200 won,” Kris recites in his customer service voice. 

“He likes that boy, you know,” the elderly lady whispers. 

“I know,” Kris replies at normal volume, “I’ve been breaking him down for the past couple of weeks, but he won’t believe me.” 

Chanyeol turns around to face the duo, but if either realizes that he’s aware of their conversation, they don’t acknowledge it.” 

“The more he fights it, the stronger his feelings are,” the elderly woman says as she digs through her coin purse. 

“Exactly,” Kris takes the offered money and puts it in the cash register. 

“He’s probably in love with him at this point.” 

“They’re going to end up married,” Kris gives her the bag and the receipt. 

The elderly woman nods in agreement and makes eye contact with Chanyeol. She grabs his forearm, “Stop running away from your feelings—Be a man.” 

Chanyeol wanted to reply that he’s actually a huge bitch but thought better of it. He watches as she waddles out of the store, only the memory of her cheap shampoo an indication she was ever there. 

“See, even strangers see it Chanyeol. She doesn’t know you or Baekhyun and saw it.” 

Chanyeol rolls his eyes and strides to the counter in front of the large window. His previous purchase of strawberry banana yogurt cups are on the counter untouched. Before he had the chance to indulge in them, Kris just _had_ to know why he walked in like someone died. His pride died last Friday and he’s in mourning. 

“I don’t like Baekhyun, Kris. I never liked him and will never like him,” Chanyeol removes the treat from the bag and tears the lid from the cup. 

“Are you telling me or yourself that?” 

“I’m—” 

The overly fruity girl group song ends and the beginning cord of VBM’s recent title song begins. 

Kris grumbles, “Why does my dad insist on playing this garbage?” He steals a glance toward Chanyeol, “No offense.” 

“Fuck you,” Chanyeol states nonchalantly as he takes a sip from the cup. 

“Did he reject you? Is this why you’re so mean to me today?” Kris strides to the counter and sits on the stool next to Chanyeol. 

“Fuck off.” 

“He did,” Kris recites slowly. 

If only Baekhyun rejected him—everything would be so much easier. He could drop out, move back home, become a potato farmer, and drink the memory of their kiss out of his mind. But no, Baekhyun kissed him back. He enjoyed it as much as he did and now he’s just _fucked._ Days have passed, and he’s still haunted by Baekhyun’s touches and the way he sang his name. 

Chanyeol is silent as he takes another sip from the cup. 

“Did he seem angry about the kiss?” Kris starts slowly. 

Chanyeol chuckles darkly and finishes his first cup. He opens the second, this time using a straw. 

“It was that bad?” Kris turns to Chanyeol and holds the hem of his apron between his fingers, “Look man, I’m sorry. I probably seemed like a huge asshole earlier. I didn’t know—” 

“We made out in the library.” 

“You…what?” 

Chanyeol gazes out the storefront window and watches how the breeze rustles the leaves on the trees, “We started fighting because he’s dick and then we kissed, and the next thing I know we’re making out on the table.” 

“In front of people?” 

Chanyeol steals a glance at Kris, “We were in one of the study rooms.” 

“Don’t they have cameras in those.” 

“I don’t want to think about that.” 

A silence falls between the two, one Chanyeol is grateful for. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous about seeing him in class. Fortunately, Baekhyun canceled their one-on-one meeting Saturday, claiming he got sick (in the main group chat). A part of him is hoping Baekhyun keeps up with his sickness alibi and skips class today but life is never too kind. 

Maybe he should skip. Hell, maybe he should just pull the plug and drop out anyway. 

“—So, are you ready to admit that you like him?” Kris starts. He rests his head on his wrists as he stares at the window. 

“I don’t.” 

“You put your tongue down his throat.” 

“I’m aware,” Chanyeol takes another sip his yogurt cup. 

Kris sighs, “Why are you so complicated, Chanyeol?” 

“Maybe you’re the one who’s complicated.” 

Kris rolls his eyes and grabs Chanyeol’s arm, stopping him from taking another sip of his yogurt, “Chanyeol, all you do is run away from your feelings. You like Baekhyun, but instead of dating him, you run away and sabotage the relationship. When you get another chance, one you don’t deserve, you deny your feelings for him. Why do you think you’re so enthralled with some stupid boy band that sings love songs—” 

“Because they make good music—” 

“You’re lonely and sad, Chanyeol! People who like music don’t stand outside in the cold to get a preordered album!” 

Chanyeol tears his arm away, “I liked them before Baekhyun. Maybe some people like celebrities because they fill a void, but that’s not true for everyone. Not all idols are transparent with a pretty face, some are role models and want change lives.” 

“Did they change your life?” 

“They changed Baekhyun’s.” 

“What?” 

Chanyeol takes another sip of his yogurt. He didn’t mean to say that out loud. 

“How do you know that?” Kris leans forward. 

Chanyeol turns from Kris, straw in-between his lips. 

Kris grabs Chanyeol’s hand, this time taking the yogurt cup and the remaining cups from the cardboard package. 

“Hey, I was—” 

“Chanyeol.” 

“Baekhyun told me,” Chanyeol continues when Kris stares at him blankly, “we had dinner last Saturday.” 

“Alone?” 

“Yes,” Chanyeol takes his baseball cap off and cords his fingers through his hair. 

Kris stands, “You went on a date last week!” 

“No, we just had dinner,” Chanyeol states matter-a-factly. 

“You also tongue fucked him in the library as friends.” 

“We’re not friends.” 

Chanyeol isn’t sure what they are at this point. After their fight, he can assume their truce is no longer in effect. Which shouldn’t bother him because, you know, fuck Baekhyun, but at the same time, his heart is heavy. He reaches for his yogurt cups and Kris pushes them to the end of the counter. 

“You can get them back after we finish our conversation.” 

“I paid for them.” 

“You bought them in my store.” 

“Your dad’s store,” Chanyeol corrects. 

“Admit you like Baekhyun and we can be done here.” 

Before Chanyeol had the opportunity to tell Kris to fuck off, his phone chimes. He pulls it from his sweatpants pocket and reads the notification. He breathes a sigh of relief, “Class got canceled.” 

“What does that have to do with you realizing your feelings for Baekhyun so you can stop moping around?” 

“It means I don’t have to worry about Baekhyun until Thursday.” 

“So you’re going to be like,” Kris gestures to Chanyeol generally, “this for another couple of days?” 

“Our group project is due next week. After that, he’ll be out of our lives.” 

“Are you excited about that?” 

Chanyeol shrugs his shoulders. 

Kris rolls his eyes, returns to his stool, and opens one of Chanyeol’s yogurt cups. He sticks the straw through the lid and slurps the treat audibly. 

“Those are mine,” Chanyeol reaches over Kris’ arms to grab the bag. 

Kris tosses Chanyeol an unopened yogurt cup, “We’re drinking, and we when drink, you’re honest.” 

“This is yogurt.” 

Kris sets his cup on the counter, “I’ll love to drink alcohol but you’re weird so here’s to yogurt,” he raises his cup in the air. 

“To yogurt,” Chanyeol replies, clanking their cups of yogurt in toast. 

Another silence falls between the two. Chanyeol suckles on the straw of his yogurt cup as a couple walks past, chatting about something excitedly. Their smiles are bright, and he could practically feel their happiness. 

It hurts. 

The soundtrack switched to a nineties R &B playlist, which Kris seemed more appreciative to if him bopping to the music was any indication. The soft vocals waft through the humble store, wrapping him into the narrative of the classic girl wants boy, but the boy doesn’t know it. Despite the pain the singers are communicating, the song is upbeat and light. 

_I can’t seem to get you off my mind, I wish you were mine._

Chanyeol takes another sip of his yogurt, the acid from the treat dilutes his taste buds, but the sugar is making his body feel better. It can’t bring forth the warmth that seems to come around whenever he’s around Baekhyun. He watches the couple as the girl pushes on her, assumingly, boyfriend’s chest, then they both burst into laughter. He wonders if Baekhyun and himself looked like that the other day during dinner. Could that have been them if he didn’t walk away? 

Could that still be them? 

“Kris,” Chanyeol studies the poorly drawn dicks and _fuck you, Wonhos_ carved into the counter, “Do you think I hurt Baekhyun’s feelings?” 

“I thought we already established you were a dick,” Kris states casually. 

“But why were his feelings hurt?” 

“Why don’t you ask him?” 

Chanyeol gives Kris a scandalized look. Maybe before their truce was thrown out the window, they could have reached the point where they could talk about their feelings, but now? He wouldn’t be surprised if Baekhyun kicked him in the dick the next time he saw him. 

“I want to know what you think,” Chanyeol traces each indented line of the counter with a finger. 

“He probably liked you back. I told you how infatuated and _disgusting_ you too were that night you felt the need to tell me about your big dick. I’ve seen a lot of people walk through these doors, but I’ve never seen a man that happy about someone before, and I’ve seen newlyweds walk in here pulling the same shit.” 

Chanyeol pauses on the curve of a dick smoking a cigarette. 

Kris continues, disbelief leaking from his voice, “Don’t tell me you never thought about it before.” 

It’s not that he never thought about it before because he did entertain the possibility, but he never thought about it that deeply. Baekhyun’s behavior would make a lot more sense if he was emotionally involved, but it’s been months since he ran away that night. 

“He posted some angry thirst tweets a couple of weeks ago.” 

“You follow him on Twitter?” 

“And when I accidentally mentioned his Twitter account—” 

“You tried talking to him about his Twitter?” 

“He was super weird about it.” 

“…What did he say?” 

Chanyeol’s face is warm and his heart is in his throat. “I got kind of excited at the idea of them being about me.” 

At Kris’ silence, Chanyeol hides his head in his arms, his forehead touching the counter. He probably looks stupid as fuck, and like some fifteen-year-old confessing to their crush, but he’s overwhelmed. 

He’s getting excited just thinking about Baekhyun having feelings for him because the confusion he’s been going through the last few weeks isn’t one-sided. Baekhyun is feeling it too. 

“I don’t like Baekhyun,” Chanyeol muffles in the fabric of his hoodie. 

“Could Baekhyun date someone else?” Kris asks softly. 

“Of course.” 

“Would you be okay with that?” 

The excitement that sat in his chest is replaced with an ache. Baekhyun could, and should, date other people. Other people should see other sides of him, the vulnerable sides. What they had between them was over. 

But of a part of Chanyeol, something he has pushed down since he received the email that Baekhyun was in his group, didn’t want it to be over. It should be over, but a lot of things should be different, but they're not. And most of them are the feelings that never died. 

The block of preppy girl group songs turns to another VBM track, their title from last year, which Kris scoffs at. It wasn’t Chanyeol’s favorite since he never really got it. Running away from someone, only to return _like a boomerang,_ was stupid and counterintuitive. Why would anyone go through so much trouble to forget someone only to chase after them again? 

Unless they’re tired of running in the wrong direction. 

Or perhaps, for someone to have the strength to chase someone, they need to run away—train their leg muscles so they day they decide to turn around, _like a boomerang,_ can make the trip back. 

Chanyeol sits up and rubs his eyes. 

He’s tired. 

Chanyeol confesses slowly, “No…I’m not.” 

“Why is that?” 

Chanyeol turns to face Kris to see if he’s wearing his classic _I was right_ smirk, but instead, he wears a serious expression. 

“Because…I like Baekhyun,” Chanyeol’s voice is soft and he pulls his fingers. His face is abnormally warm and his heart hammers in his chest. It also felt like he took a huge breath of air after running a marathon. 

He likes Baekhyun. 

He _likes_ Baekhyun.  
  


###

Chanyeol wants to piss himself, he’s that terrified. Class Thursday wasn’t too bad. He wore all black, no one can see you when you wear all black, and kept his head down. Baekhyun did show up, he nearly had a heart attack when their eyes met across the room. But as soon as the first person left the room, signaling that class was really over, he hauled ass and took the first bus home. Naturally, he’s scared shitless for their group meeting (today) because what if the others skip and he’s forced to sit in a room with Baekhyun again. Before it was bad because he hated him and would rather walk off a cliff than spend any time with him, but now that he’s no longer being a bitch and running away from his feelings, he’s scared. Being in a room alone with his crush, a person who he ruined any possible future with, and made out with the previous week, is a new type of hell he didn’t want to understand.

He dressed up again for numerous reasons. One, he wanted to impress Baekhyun in the off chance he would foolishly give him another chance (one he doesn’t deserve), and two, he has no idea how to act so it’s best to dress up for any possibility. Maybe they will be boyfriends by the end of the day, or maybe Baekhyun will hurt his feelings in front of everyone. 

What he wasn’t expecting was to show up to the group meeting alone. He checks his phone for the time, then rechecks the message confirming that we were meeting today at the library at three in the afternoon. It’s been ten minutes and things aren’t looking good. He checks his hair in the reflection of his phone, he put his bangs up, which he rarely did because why put in the work. He readjusts the collar of his shirt, then refolds the sleeves of his dark blue cardigan. 

The door of the study room opens slowly, revealing a dressed up Baekhyun with a venti iced coffee in his hands. He’s wearing a graphic sweatshirt, black skinny jeans, a grey beanie, and glasses. Heat rises to Chanyeol’s cheeks at how cute yet attractive the smaller man is. 

“Sorry I’m late, I overslept and—” Baekhyun looks up from the floor and stops in the doorway. His eyes are wide, and a light blush dusts his cheeks, “Oh.” 

Baekhyun sits at the end of the table, as far away from Chanyeol as possible, and takes out his laptop. After a moment he continues, “I overslept.” 

“Oh,” Chanyeol replies, “It happens.” 

“Yeah.” 

The atmosphere is thick and Chanyeol can feel his pulse in his palms. The tension is heavy between them, but at least Baekhyun isn’t mad. 

_He probably liked you back. I’ve seen a lot of people walk through these doors, but I’ve never seen a man that happy about someone before, and I’ve seen newlyweds walk in here pulling the same shit._

Chanyeol hunches behind his laptop at the idea of Baekhyun liking him back after all this time. Not only is it crazy, but kind of impressive. He steals a glance at Baekhyun who is also transfixed with his laptop. Where those angry thirst tweets really for him? 

He hasn’t checked Baekhyun’s twitter since their dinner-not-date, but did he post more? Did he post about their tryst? Memories flood back to Chanyeol’s mind and his lips tingle in excitement. 

He really wants to kiss Baekhyun again. 

“Kyungsoo and the others aren’t coming,” Baekhyun recites quietly, his nose in his phone. 

“What?” 

“I just got a text. He said he can’t make it today’s meeting and proposes we do our interviews today and meet tomorrow.” 

Chanyeol suppresses a frown. One, he went through the trouble of renting another study room they aren’t going to use. Two, Jongin and Sehun are getting bad evaluations because what the fuck. And three, worst possible case scenario. He was looking forward to the buffer the other three provided so he wouldn’t have to feel so weird and vulnerable. 

Baekhyun closes his laptop and takes a sip of iced coffee. 

Chanyeol clears his throat, “Is he with Jongin again?” 

Baekhyun lips part and he meets Chanyeol’s gaze, “Most likely.” 

“And Sehun?” 

Baekhyun shrugs his shoulders and looks at his lap. He’s uncharacteristically shy and Chanyeol’s heart leaps to his throat at the notion of their kiss from last week causing this behavioral change. Chanyeol knew he enjoyed it, he would never have imagined it would have this much of an effect on him though. He thought Baekhyun would stroll in like the cocky bastard that he is and tease him for being a subpar kisser. 

“Let’s get this over with,” Baekhyun says as he stands. He packs his laptop into his knapsack before looking at Chanyeol anxiously. 

The circle frames of Baekhyun’s glasses give his cheeks a puffer look and his eyes appear rounder. He’s cute, super cute, incredibly cute— 

“I heard there’s a storm coming later today, and I don’t want to be caught in it,” Baekhyun continues. 

“Oh, okay,” Chanyeol stands, packing his things into his backpack. 

“This shouldn’t take long.”  
  


###

Baekhyun returns to his living room slash bedroom with two glasses of water. He places one in front of Chanyeol and the other on the other side of the coffee table.

Chanyeol clears his throat, “Oh, um, thank you.” 

“All we have left to do is add our data from today, right?” Baekhyun opens the lid of his laptop and takes a sip of his water. 

“I think so, yeah. Kyungsoo added his team’s interview data to the document already.” 

“Hm.” 

Chanyeol looks at his laptop screen and can see Baekhyun input the data from today’s “outing” into the document, _We chose a local advertising firm as our…_

A crack of thunder erupts, causing the room the shake and the lights to flicker. Rain pounds against the roof nosily. If Chanyeol wasn’t stranded in the apartment where he ruined his own life, it would be a relaxing Saturday night. His glances to Baekhyun’s futon at the edge of the room by his television. 

Baekhyun stares at the ceiling momentarily, before returning his attention to his laptop. He clicks on a few keys and the first track to VBM’s latest album plays from his computer. “Is it okay if I play music?” 

“It’s your apartment, Baekhyun.” 

Baekhyun nods and continues to describe their experience with an advertising consultant. 

“Baekhyun,” Chanyeol’s cheeks warm in embarrassment when their eyes meet, he never noticed what a beautiful dark brown they were and he’s kicking himself for choosing now to appreciate them, “Thank you for letting me stay here.” 

“I’m not heartless.” 

He knew Baekhyun wasn’t heartless, but the last time he was in this room, he ran away and made their already complicated relationship more convoluted. It would be understandable if Baekhyun didn’t want Chanyeol in his apartment, or at least felt very uncomfortable. He’s ready to jump out of his skin and it’s been thirty minutes. 

“And, um, thank you for being a good group partner,” Chanyeol’s face is hot at Baekhyun’s surprised expression. He wouldn’t be surprised if his entire face was red. 

“I just wanted to pass,” Baekhyun states softly as he returns his gaze to his laptop. 

“And the rest would say the same thing, but you,” _despite everything we went through,_ “were reliable.” 

“Hm.” 

Chanyeol returns to his laptop at Baekhyun’s muted response. He scrolls down to the _Interview:_ share of the report and writes the reflection portion of the assignment. After about a paragraph of rambling, a thought occurs to Chanyeol: Baekhyun never thanked him back. Which, he shouldn’t be surprised about since this is Baekhyun, town dick and resident asshole. But things are different now, or at least should be. 

_What if Kris was wrong and he doesn’t like me back?_

Which, if Chanyeol had to be honest, he deserves. He pauses and looks at his fingers as the clack from Baekhyun rapidly tapping the keys of his laptop remains steady. 

_Like a boomerang—_

Chanyeol frown deepens at the irony of the song that happens to play. The song is still stupid and counterintuitive but so is he. Here he is, crushing over a man he technically had and then ended up hating because he couldn’t be honest with himself. He doesn’t deserve Baekhyun. 

_Could Baekhyun date someone else?_

He should date someone else. 

“Can I use the bathroom?” 

Baekhyun stops typing for a moment, “Yeah, it’s—” 

“I still remember where it is,” Chanyeol stands and walks to the end of the apartment and takes a right, opposite of the kitchen. The typing doesn’t continue. 

_Throw myself far away but in the end—_  
  


###

“Did the storm get worse?” Chanyeol rests his head on Baekhyun’s coffee table, his laptop is pushed to his side and his cardigan is on the floor next to him. On his phone, he scrolls through news article after news article about the storm and how it probably won’t stop until later tonight.

It’s almost nine in the evening. 

Baekhyun sits on his futon, remote control in hand, and watches the news quietly. The anchorwoman points to a large red blob and clarifies how it will continue west. They’re currently in the middle of the blob. 

Which is a thing plaguing Chanyeol’s mind; Baekhyun has become more reserved as the night went on. After he returned from the bathroom, Baekhyun announced that their paper was finished then moved to his futon without so much of a glance. His VBM playlist ended an hour ago and he made no move to replay it, or at least select another one. 

“Baekhyun, I know we aren’t really friends,” Chanyeol starts hesitantly, “but, are you okay?” 

“I’m fine, Chanyeol,” Baekhyun rests his head on his knees and places the remote next to him. 

“It’s okay that I’m here?” 

“There’s a storm outside, Chanyeol.” 

“Baek—” 

“What are you trying to say to me?” 

“We never talked about—” 

Baekhyun turns to stare at Chanyeol. He narrows his eyes, “What is there to talk about?” 

“I’m sorry, Baekhyun.” 

Baekhyun rolls his eyes and returns his attention to his television set, currently resting on a wood dresser. He mutters, “All you do is apologize.” 

“Were those tweets about me?” 

“What tweets?” Baekhyun retorts coolly. 

“From your VBM fan account.” Chanyeol’s heart thunders in his chest. He could be wrong, and if he is, he’s stepping out of line. With each passing second, becoming a potato farmer and living as a recluse is sounding more appealing. 

“I make a lot of tweets, Chanyeol.” 

“The ones about the hot guy you hate with your entire being.” At Baekhyun’s silence, Chanyeol’s continues, “The one who came back into your life unexpectedly—” 

“Those tweets didn’t happen.” 

“Baek—” 

Baekhyun turns to face Chanyeol again, his eyes cold and his mouth pulled into a grimace, “What’re you trying to say to me?” 

Chanyeol sits up and stares at Baekhyun. 

He broke Baekhyun’s heart while trying to protect his own. 

He lost the right. 

“You like me.” 

“I can’t stand you. Chanyeol, listen, if you were tied to a train track and I only had two minutes to save you, not only would I let you die, I would spend those two minutes on Twitter updating my status.” 

_Well._

“You’re letting me stay in your apartment.” 

Baekhyun opens his mouth to retort but stops himself. He whispers, “Fuck off.” 

“You’ll save me.” 

“Because I’m a decent human being, Chanyeol,” comments softly. 

Another boom of thunder is heard, and the lights flicker more violently than before. Chanyeol stares at the ceiling until everything stabilizes. “You felt it too, right?” 

“Hatred? Everyday and I still do.” 

“So, our truce is over?” 

Baekhyun is silent and his eyes are on the floor. Chanyeol is foolish for instigating this conversation. They might never talk to each other again, which would have been a dream come true a few days ago, but an ache skulks into his chest at the idea of never seeing him again. 

_But, isn’t that what Baekhyun went through?_

“Our kiss—” 

“Shut up, Chanyeol.” 

“In the library—” Chanyeol’s cheeks redden at the memory. The heat of Baekhyun’s skin and the push of their bodies, he’s getting turned on just thinking about it. 

“Chanyeol,” Baekhyun’s voice is dangerous. He mutes the television and throws the remote aside. “You think you can just sit here and talk to me like you know me,” At Chanyeol’s silence, Baekhyun crawls from the futon to the coffee table, “and try to make a point about what? That I liked you? That I still like you?” When he reaches the coffee table, he slinks around the table to Chanyeol’s side. Chanyeol falls back onto his arms as Baekhyun makes his way closer, “The same could be said for you. Do you like me, Chanyeol? Huh? Our kiss in the library, did you like it?” 

“Um, Baekhyun—” 

“Shut the fuck up. I let you talk. It’s my turn,” When Baekhyun reaches Chanyeol’s side of the table he traps him with his arms, now on either side of Chanyeol’s hips. His mouth hovers above Chanyeol’s groin, “Why did you run away that night, Chanyeol? Why did you give me expectations of what we could have been, then throw dirt in my face?” 

Chanyeol frowns at Baekhyun’s words, “You knew what we were.” 

“A quick fuck?” Baekhyun pushes Chanyeol’s legs apart. 

“A good fuck,” Chanyeol’s heart leaps into his throat and the warmth that sat in his chest travels lower. Baekhyun’s eyes peak from over the lens of his round-framed glasses, his mouth is pink and wet. 

“That’s all I was to you, right? We partied, hooked up, and went on our merry way?” 

“Yes.” 

“But is that all, Chanyeol? Is that all we did?” Baekhyun crawls over him, positioned between Chanyeol’s legs. He supports himself on his arms and watches Chanyeol from above. 

“Yes.” 

“When did it change, Chanyeol?” Baekhyun pushes forward until their groins meet. Chanyeol bites his lip to suppress a moan. 

“The night I ran away,” Chanyeol’s body is warm to the point he’s sweating. There are probably pit stains on his shirt. 

“What happened, Chanyeol?” Baekhyun teases dangerously. A slender hand gropes Chanyeol’s side and travels to his chest. 

“I felt it.” 

“What?” Baekhyun mutters softly, his lips parted. 

“I like you.” 

Baekhyun lips form a tight line. This is the most stressful yet hottest thing Chanyeol ever experienced. The cute university guy he saw earlier today, clutching a venti ice coffee and his laptop, is now this dark and mysterious man. The angle of his jaw is sharper, and his eyes are intense. The deep brown that made Chanyeol soft and mushy, is making him cower at his feet. This is the same man who offered to go out to dinner and bared intimate secrets, the same man he met at a party all those months ago and started a conversation with because he found his smile addicting. This is the same man who told him to get hit by a train and die and the same man he ran into while waiting in line for a boy band CD. This is the man who holds Chanyeol’s heart. 

At Baekhyun’s silence, Chanyeol whispers, “Do you hate me?” 

“Of course,” Baekhyun replies smoothly. 

“Why did we go out to dinner that one day?” 

“Because you were hungry and I’m a good person.” 

“Is that why you decided to turn over a new leaf after what Sehun said?” 

Baekhyun stares at Chanyeol then sits up. He turns to face his closet. 

Chanyeol sits up as well and supports himself on his elbows. Baekhyun is still between his legs. 

“Were you being a good person when we talked about VBM?” 

Baekhyun’s eyes narrow but he doesn’t look away from the closet. There’s another boom of thunder and the television clicks off. 

“Chanyeol,” Baekhyun starts slowly, “Do you know why I hate you?” 

“Because I’m an insensitive asshole?” 

“Because you have so much power over me,” Baekhyun whispers. The unforgiving rain competes with his words, “Even now, you make me feel good. Not just body, but my heart. It’s beating so fast I’m surprised you can’t hear it…I can’t help but want to be around you, hear your voice, taste your face, and feel you. I hate you because you knew this. When I was so taken by you, you left. You were probably scared, right? I was scared. My thoughts were of you, my heart longed for you, my body—” Chanyeol grabs Baekhyun hips and pulls him closer. Baekhyun doesn’t fight it. He continues, “Craved yours,” He turns around until they’re face to face, “And you felt this too—I know you did, but you ran. You knew but you still ran. And now,” Baekhyun repositions their legs where his rest on top of Chanyeol’s thighs and his arms wrap around his waist, “You think because you’re ready, I should fall into your arms.” 

Chanyeol opens his mouth to respond but Baekhyun’s mouth is on his, stealing his words and his breath. The warmth that has plagued Chanyeol since that night all those months ago returns and blooms. It takes root in his ribcage and grows, erupting from his mouth. Baekhyun’s hands climb up Chanyeol’s arms then wrap around his neck. The kiss is messier than the one in the library because nothing is holding them back. Neither has anything left to lose. 

Baekhyun breaks the kiss and mutters into Chanyeol’s neck, “Do you want to fuck me?” 

Not only is Chanyeol burning up from the inside out, but he doesn’t think he has ever been this hard in his entire life. He moans, “Yes.” 

“What do you want to do to me?” Baekhyun kisses Chanyeol’s neck, his petal shaped lips tickling the skin. 

Chanyeol releases another moan, “I want to hear you moan.” 

“How?” Baekhyun’s breath catches when Chanyeol grips him from his jeans. 

“Kiss me again and we’ll see.” 

A slender hand leaves Chanyeol’s neck and slides to the side of his face. Baekhyun captures his lips and slips his tongue into his mouth, moaning at the taste. His circle framed glasses cut into his nose and cheek, but he couldn’t find it in him to stop or care. Each lick is a spark of fire that burns his insides and suck of the tongue, a burst of unbridled passion. 

He likes Baekhyun. 

He _likes_ Baekhyun. 

And he’s not sure why he ever wanted to stop. 

Another round of thunder shakes the apartment. The electricity diminishes in a resounding click, bathing them in darkness. 

“Fuck,” Chanyeol mutters against Baekhyun’s mouth. 

They part, Chanyeol reaching for his phone in his jeans pocket, and Baekhyun nuzzling on his neck. Chanyeol’s vision becomes hazy and his head tips back. He groans, “Baek.” 

Baekhyun’s hand slides from Chanyeol’s neck to his hand currently holding his phone. He tosses it aside, from the loud clack probably the kitchen, then guides the hand to his waist. He murmurs, “Baby, touch me.” His plea is wet, and the heat of his breath causes Chanyeol to shiver. 

“I, ah, Baek I can’t see,” Chanyeol’s mouth opens in a silent moan when Baekhyun unbuttons his jeans. 

“Get on the futon,” Baekhyun detaches and guides him to the other end of the apartment. Their hands lock together, Baekhyun’s slender fingers grasping Chanyeol’s thicker ones. 

Chanyeol wobbles, most of his blood is pooling in his dick, and he runs into the coffee table, “Fuck!” He rubs his shin as he continues to stumble. When he finally maneuvers his way to the futon, he’s pushed down and within a moment, Baekhyun is in his lap sucking love bites into the curve of his neck. Lean fingers unbutton his collared shirt as his lips descend lower. Chanyeol pants hotly and whines when Baekhyun pushes their groins together. 

“Chanyeol,” Baekhyun pushes Chanyeol’s shirt from his frame and tosses it aside, “Undress me.” 

At the plea, Chanyeol pulls Baekhyun’s sweatshirt up and off, his glasses caught in the fray, then throws it aside. He nudges him from his lap, urging him to lay on the futon, and unbuttons his jeans. His hands slide over his thighs, pushing the material down in the process, and sucks on Baekhyun’s nipples. Baekhyun mews softly and his hands cord through Chanyeol locks, ruining his updo. The hardening flesh is pleasant in Chanyeol’s mouth. He tongues each nipple, licking around the areola and sucking harshly on the bud. Baekhyun’s fingers tighten its hold on his scalp and another whine escapes his throat. Chanyeol travels lower, his tongue leaving a hot trail of saliva in its wake. 

“Lower.” 

Chanyeol sits up and pulls the black skinny jeans, boxers and all, from Baekhyun legs. He can’t see for shit, but from the way Baekhyun is panting, he’s feeling it. 

“Baek—” 

“Under the futon,” Baekhyun rasps. Chanyeol can hear a slight smack of flesh against flesh. He reaches under the futon, and his fingers ghost between the fabric and the carpeted floor. When he feels a familiar span of plastic, he grabs the tube and pulls it from under the futon. 

To say Chanyeol is a mess is an understatement. His spatial reasoning isn’t as good as he thought. When he uncaps the bottle, that he now can identify as lube, and squeezes, the substance doesn’t land on his fingers. He would think his eyes would have adjusted to the darkness, but it’s also pitch black. The window provides a small shred of light, but that’s further up the futon. 

“Baekhyun, scoot up a bit,” Chanyeol rasps, his voice deeper than before. 

“Chanyeol,” Baekhyun pants heavily, his voice becoming airier with each passing second. The smack of skin against skin is louder than before. Baekhyun follows Chanyeol’s direction and the room of pitch darkness is still that, but he can now see the outline of Baekhyun’s face. Chanyeol crawls in-between Baekhyun’s parted legs. 

With this new light source, Chanyeol tries again and is successful. Using his free hand, he rubs Baekhyun from his ankle to his thigh until he finds the puckered entrance. 

When a fingertip touches the sensitive flesh, Baekhyun keens softly, “Right there.” 

Chanyeol prods at the entrance with a lubed finger. He massages a sole digit against Baekhyun’s anus until it slips in. Baekhyun gasps. 

“Baek, are you touching yourself?” Chanyeol pushes his first finger to the hilt and moans softly at the warmth and the suction. With his free hand, he swats Baekhyun’s hands away from himself, Baekhyun whining in discontentment in response. Chanyeol’s dick is throbbing in his jeans, begging for some type of relief: a cold hand, a brief grind, or at least freedom from its cloth prison. “Help me out.” 

Chanyeol starts working his finger into Baekhyun, causing the latter to gasp. Within a few moments, he feels fingers skittering across his flexing abdomen, then his jeans being unzipped. He moans softly as the pressure from his dick subsides. 

“Fuck-ah, Chanyeol—shit,” Baekhyun breaths when Chanyeol includes another finger. 

From the way Baekhyun is gripping and squeezing his fingers, Chanyeol is confident he won’t last long. He continues to push forward, reacquainting himself with the fleshy walls, eager to prepare Baekhyun so they can both enjoy themselves. 

Baekhyun’s thighs slide against Chanyeol’s hips. “Chanyeol—more,” Baekhyun’s panting becomes more hysterical as Chanyeol’s thrusts increase in frequency. “Chanyeol, fuck—more,” His hips move against Chanyeol’s wrist, trying to take as much as he could. 

“Baek—” 

“Put it in.” 

“I’ve only prepped you on two fingers,” Chanyeol rasps. He bends his fingers, searching for that special spot inside. Baekhyun arches and he rides the fingers with more vigor. He grabs Chanyeol’s wrist to make sure he doesn’t pull away. 

“I’m ready-ah!” Moans that increase in magnitude spill from Baekhyun’s mouth. 

Chanyeol gropes the futon until he finds the bottle of lube and spreads the substance on his hand, coating another finger. He sticks in his third and final finger which releases gasps, moans, and pants of _Chanyeol, please, fuck, so good-ah-so fucking good!_ When he bends all three fingers, Baekhyun loses all coherency. His mews of pleasure drown out the rain. There’s another round of thunder, shaking the apartment, and this time, a strike of lightning. The room illuminates with a sharp streak of white and Chanyeol can see how debauched Baekhyun is. His mouth is parted, releasing moan after moan, and his eyes are screwed shut, a painful pleasure written on his face. 

Chanyeol pulls his fingers out, to Baekhyun’s discontentment. He digs through his jean pockets until he finds his wallet and feels for a condom packet. Once found, he tosses his wallet aside and removes his jeans, boxer and all. The smack of skin against skin returns, but he couldn’t be bothered to stop Baekhyun at this point. He tears open the packet and, with much trial and error, rolls it on himself. Afterward, he ghosts for the lube, spreads it on his hands, and lathers himself and, hopefully, Baekhyun’s entrance. Baekhyun groans at the touch and stops jerking himself. Chanyeol slides their hips together, and the tip of his dick prods against Baekhyun’s prepared entrance. Chanyeol’s body is on fire and he’s achingly hard. 

“I want to ride you, Chanyeol.” 

He and Baekhyun trade places with a collision of limbs. His head rests on Baekhyun’s pillow and he watches as a soft silhouette of Baekhyun’s face comes into view. His hair is mussed, his lips are swollen, and his eyes are lidded, most likely dark. It’s a sight he wishes he could properly see but he’ll take what he can get. Fingers skitter across his legs until they find his dick. He swallows a moan when Baekhyun strokes him a few times. Chanyeol bites his lips when he feels a pressure at the end of his dick, and he groans when its swallowed by an unforgiving heat. Baekhyun supports himself with a lone hand on Chanyeol’s shoulder, while the other holds the base of his dick. 

“Baekhyun—fuck,” Chanyeol hisses. His head falls deeper into the pillow as more of him is surrounded by the wet heat. He slides his hands up Baekhyun’s hips to stabilize him. Once Baekhyun is fully seated, Chanyeol releases another moan of appreciation. Baekhyun groans softly and remains still. Their breaths are heavy in the air. The room is unbearably hot and humid. 

Chanyeol’s heart pounds in his ears when Baekhyun moves. They move with caution at first. Baekhyun pants lightly and Chanyeol can tell he’s just testing the waters with each jerk and swivel of his hips. After about a couple minutes of this, Baekhyun takes his descents harder, and his pace quickens. 

“Chanyeol-ah, Chanyeol!” Baekhyun supports himself on Chanyeol’s abdomen and bounces in earnest. He pants heavily, pleasure evident in his voice. 

Chanyeol gasps noisily because it’s so good, so, so good. His body is alive, and it feels like his heart could explode. His dick is being squeezed just the right amount, and the friction is delicious. He matches Baekhyun thrust by thrust, pulling louder moans from the smaller man. 

A warm wetness flows on to Chanyeol’s stomach which he can assume is Baekhyun’s precum. This only makes him harder. 

Baekhyun’s moans continue to escalate. Wet pants of Chanyeol’s name fill the air. Chanyeol’s eyes roll back and he lets himself go. He thrusts in Baekhyun’s awaiting body with everything that he has. The smack of skin against skin and lube is deafening. 

By the way Baekhyun squeezes him, Chanyeol can tell he’s close, “Chanyeol—faster-ah, I’m close.” 

While Chanyeol loves whenever Baekhyun rides him, he can sense that the smaller is getting tired from the way his bouncing slowed but the roll of his hips increased. He pulls out and positions Baekhyun on his stomach. He reenters, picking up right where they left off. He licks the skin of Baekhyun’s back, the salt from his sweat welcomed on his tongue. 

When Chanyeol angles his hips up, sobs of pleasure fall from Baekhyun’s mouth, “Right there, Chanyeol-ah-fuck, yes—I’m close!” He meets Chanyeol’s thrust by thrust, eager to cum. Chanyeol snakes his hand down Baekhyun’s body and strokes him, pulling louder cries from the smaller. 

The tight coil forms at the base of Chanyeol’s stomach, growing into a hot white pleasure. He pants against the shell of Baekhyun’s ear, “I’m close too—Baek, ah, fuck.” 

Baekhyun pants Chanyeol’s name in quick succession, and within a second, he’s cumming. He tightens around Chanyeol, coaxing him to his orgasm, and arches against Chanyeol’s thrumming body. The push and pull is so utterly fantastic, it’s a pure hot heaven. Chanyeol groans against Baekhyun’s neck as he empties himself in the condom. Pleasure surges through his veins, moans of Baekhyun’s name falling from his lips as a result. 

When the pleasure fades, Baekhyun collapses onto his futon, taking Chanyeol with him. Their breath is heavy from the effort to fill their hungry lungs. Chanyeol felt disgusting from the layer of sweat and lube that coats his body, but he’s never felt so satisfied and at peace. 

There’s a soft sneeze from behind the wall and Chanyeol freezes. 

_What if people heard us?_

Baekhyun, on the other hand, pushes Chanyeol from him and pulls his sheet over their bodies.  
  


###

“Baekhyun, what are we?” Chanyeol lays on his back on Baekhyun’s futon. Baekhyun’s touches are still hot on his skin.

The power hasn’t returned, but from the borrowed light of the window, he can see the rough silhouettes of their discarded clothes tossed aside in haste. It’s still raining as hard as ever but the thunderstorm has passed. 

“Idiots,” Baekhyun comments softly at Chanyeol’s side. His eyes are closed, and the sheet is pulled up to his shoulders. Chanyeol can catch the curve of his check and his cupid’s bow. 

“Do you think we could work?” 

“We can barely function, Chanyeol.” 

There’s truth to Baekhyun’s pessimistic words. He terrorized himself for months all because he got scared one night. For a moment, he didn’t want to love. He didn’t want to understand the type of love VBM and every other idol group sang about. 

“Maybe that’s why we work.” 

Baekhyun touches Chanyeol’s waist, his slender fingers counting the moles that litter the skin. 

Chanyeol continues, “We spent months hurting each other,” Baekhyun sends Chanyeol a dirty look which the latter ignores, “because we wanted to communicate our feelings.” 

“Were you always this philosophical after sex?” 

Chanyeol watches as Baekhyun stares past him, in deep thought. 

“Boys don’t like boy groups.” 

“But we do, Chanyeol.” 

“I know.” 

Baekhyun blinks as Chanyeol maneuvers them into an embrace, his arms slide around Baekhyun’s torso, “You know that’s not enough, right? I’m not dating you because you have great taste in music.” 

Baekhyun has a valid point. But they’re more than that—were so much more before they knew they shared the same interest. The warmth that settled in his belly was there before he ran into him in line, perhaps it was there the first night they met, and he was too scared to acknowledge it. 

“I want to be enough,” Chanyeol mutters softly. 

Baekhyun returns Chanyeol’s embrace. His hands grip Chanyeol’s back, and his head rests at the curve of Chanyeol’s neck. He whispers, “Give me time, Chanyeol. I can’t make this too easy for you.” 

“You want me to suffer?” 

“I want you to cry. Unless you cry on my doorstep with an ultra-rare photocard and a boombox blasting VBM, I won’t take you back,” Baekhyun replies plainly. 

“I hate you, Baekhyun,” Chanyeol’s eyes drift closed, sleep settling in his chest. 

Baekhyun yawns, “No, you don’t, Chanyeol.” 

And he was right (for once). 

###

Epilogue:

“When are we getting our grades back?” Chanyeol complains. His hands rest inside the pockets of his parka. The first taste of spring is evident in the air, but it doesn’t negate that it’s still fucking cold outside. 

“Chanyeol, we turned the project in two weeks ago. The semester isn’t over yet,” Baekhyun walks beside Chanyeol. His arms are at his sides, hands hidden by the sleeves of his coat. Just like the day Chanyeol stood behind him in line, a black beanie protects his ears, and a scarf covers his neck and chin. 

Chanyeol stops mid-step, which Baekhyun breaks after a few moments. Baekhyun inquires, “Hey, why did you stop?” 

Chanyeol walks to Baekhyun and grabs the sleeve of his coat. He stuffs Baekhyun icy hand into the pocket of his parka. 

“What—” 

“You looked cold.” 

“Chanyeol, it’s freezing outside. Everyone is cold.” 

“But your hands—” 

“I lost my gloves, that’s all.” 

Chanyeol closes his eyes before pulling Baekhyun into an embrace. He pushes his other hand, also hiding in the sleeve of his coat, into this other parka pocket. 

“I’m trying to be cute,” Chanyeol grumbles under his breath. His mouth parts when Baekhyun nuzzles into his neck, the fabric of his beanie tickling his chin. 

“We’re in the middle of the sidewalk.” 

“I know.” 

A blush rises to Chanyeol’s cheeks. He can feel people’s stares, but he wants Baekhyun to be aware of his feelings. Not only that he likes him, but that he’s sorry for putting them through his imprudence. 

These past three weeks have been special to Chanyeol. They weren’t dating, yet, but his heart has never felt so full. The wind may penetrate his parka, and his apartment’s heating might break in the middle of the night, prompting him to call Baekhyun crying about how cold he was, but whenever he’s with Baekhyun, his heart is warm. 

“We should get hot chocolate, Chanyeol.” 

Chanyeol opens his eyes and stares at Baekhyun. His fringe is parted, making him seem more puppy-like than usual. 

“You have pretty eyes,” Chanyeol observes off-handedly. 

“What does that have to do with hot chocolate?” 

_“Pretty brown eyes, you’re my pretty brown eyes—”_ A smile blooms on Chanyeol’s face at Baekhyun’s blush. 

“Gangly fuck shit,” Baekhyun mutters under his breath. 

“I thought that was one of your favorite songs?” 

“It is,” Baekhyun pulls Chanyeol closer, “But when you sing it…” 

“I ruin the song,” Chanyeol adds. He knew he wasn’t the best singer but he’s trying his best. 

“You make me melt,” Baekhyun finishes softly. 

Chanyeol slides his hands into his parka pockets, joining Baekhyun’s. 

“Why?” Baekhyun adds while looking at their joined hands then Chanyeol’s face. 

“Because I like to hold hands.” 

Baekhyun stares at Chanyeol for a while, his eyes darting to different parts of his face. He lingers on his nose, then his eyes, ears (currently folded over by his hat), and finally his lips. He leans forward, and Chanyeol, getting the idea, closes the gap. The kiss is sweet, and unfortunately, consists mostly of Baekhyun’s scarf. They part quickly after, Chanyeol’s lips tingling as its only memory. 

“Chanyeol, I like you,” Baekhyun’s eyes are still closed and his cheeks are redder than before, “This is okay, right?” 

Chanyeol had no intention of running away, not this time. 

“Of course.” Chanyeol breaks their embrace and tugs Baekhyun forward, “Let’s get some hot chocolate,” Their hands link together between them, “this convenience store should have some—” 

Chanyeol pauses mid-sentence and gawks at the sight. Baekhyun pokes his side, quietly asking what’s wrong. 

Behind the large storefront window is Kris, mouth agape. His drops his broom and is frozen in place. He mouths, _I was fucking right._


End file.
